Vampire/Human [AKELA and BOWELS]
Bitter, her nose crinkled and her lips thinned. Eyebrows drawn inward, she looked up towards the momentarily foreign ceiling, a migraine urging her awake. Her stomach felt rotten, and her eyes were dry. The stagnant saliva in her mouth tasted like shit.
After much motivation, she slumped forward, a sour expression bewitching her face. A displeased groan was followed by a sluggish rub at her face. Her limbs still felt heavy, and complete and utter inebriation had come back to bite her in the ass. Hangovers weren’t something she was quite accustomed to, seeing as the first few times had been jaunty and fun, followed by a bit of gut rot the next morning. This was terrible. Could she still even walk?
Her cloudy, off-brand green eyes observed the blearing red digital numbers. Seven o’clock in the morning… Was that even possible? It’d only been a few hours ago that she’d been dancing the night away, entertaining some good friends, and enjoying some pawned wine coolers. Now she couldn’t even remember what she’d done with all the house guests or the apartment for that matter. The worst part was, it wasn’t even her home; it was her dear sister, who had also gotten her party on that particular night.
Ruth wasn’t usually an opportunist, but she’d been feeling a small spark of rebellion. At 18 years old, the thought of vacating her sister’s apartment for a tiny shindig was more than defiance; it was devilish. Perhaps it was because she was sick of going unnoticed, or maybe she was sick of being so bored. Either way, it’d pushed her out of her comfort zone, and today she was experiencing the repercussions. Regretful of the previous night, and sick with more than just worry, she clumsily got to her feet. She had to clear out before Sarah got home.
It’d taken a while, but she’d soon managed to trudge over to the door, her long legs providing assistance. She was a fairly tall girl, and the most of her height resided in her legs, granting her the ability of large steps. Her surprisingly small hands fumbled with the door knob before she was able to open it, a breath of fresh air being given when she saw no evidence of a party. Things looked fairly untouched; the blanket was still neatly sprawled across one arm of the couch, and the remote strategically placed on top of it. A few dishes in the sink, and no bottles in the trash; maybe she was a better drunk than she thought she was.
Lazily surfing the apartment one last time, she soon began her quest towards the kitchen, getting a glass and some lukewarm water. Her nails scratched at her untamed curls, once taught and bouncy, though now messy and all over her head. The ruddy color of her hair matched the light freckles that were drizzled along the tops of her cheeks. It went well with her pale skin, which only ever grew pink and awkward with too much sunlight. Compared to her sister, it didn’t seem like she was much. She was just plain Jane—or, plain Ruth.
Sarah, on the other hand, was a mortal Goddess. Her parents devoutly praised her, admiring her charm, as well as her cute little smile and laugh. She was petite, and though she lacked curve unlike her sister, her face made up for it. Big, dumb brown eyes, paired with thick, caramel colored hair. Sarah was terrible academically, and she drank too much before she even had a chance for something more. She lacked all common sense, save how to gyp the parents out of as much cash as possible. Other than being manipulative, she was a complete bimbo. 22 years old, and she was going nowhere in life. Ruth had a world of chance, and her parents could care less. They wanted to know how Sarah’s “job interview” went, and buy her dinner when she was “upset”. In a demented way, Ruth admired her sister.
She shook away a few stray droplets before setting it back in the cupboard from which it came, not thinking much of it. What her sister didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. Ruth advanced towards the living room, mindlessly plopping onto the couch, staring blankly towards the television.
That party sucked.