MisshapenDear
a poison decanter
"When did I get nominated to be the head of your conga line?" Quinn complained, though didn't shrug Avalon's hand off. Honestly, the walk down the stairs was pretty terrifying, and it was nice to have something solid touching him, even if it was just Avalon's hand.
Blythe clung tightly to his sister's arm, eyes locked on his feet to make sure he didn't trip. Isabelle let him, squeezing back in reassurance. Like Blythe was afraid of heights, she was terrified of being underground further than a basement. When their class had once gone on a field trip to a nuclear bunker, and Isabelle had nearly had a panic attack. Blythe had helped prevent that though, thankfully.
Blythe clung tightly to his sister's arm, eyes locked on his feet to make sure he didn't trip. Isabelle let him, squeezing back in reassurance. Like Blythe was afraid of heights, she was terrified of being underground further than a basement. When their class had once gone on a field trip to a nuclear bunker, and Isabelle had nearly had a panic attack. Blythe had helped prevent that though, thankfully.
