© II.
of auroral light
there flowed in her veins some of the B L O O D of the BOHEMIAN and the adventuress who runs b a r e f o o t. It will be remembered that she was more of a LARK than a DOVE. There was a foundation of WILDNESS and BRAVERY in her.

written by: albert
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                           comes back from the war 10,000 years later. sup.

i would like to apologize to everyone who hates cosette

softgrantaire:

how does it feel to hate happiness

scettcio:

starter call. not as brave as you were at the start.
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                                      CHAOS TAINTED LIPS curve slightly at the fervor incised in ethereal presence. brume spill from HOLLOW CARCASS ;  ethanol, still, sizzling in blood:  ❛  who are you, love? ❜   the question is genuine. interest stirred in cynical bones.    ❛ don’t come here often, do you? ❜

@euphrrasie.

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         THE MUSAIN CAFÉ ; the name rings a bell. she thinks it was MUSICHETTA who mentioned it once. it’s on the way to her morning lecture. it’s cozy and small, and THE’RE ARE  NO SEATS AVAILABLE ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶  EXCEPT FOR THAT ONE STOOL AT THE END OF THE BAR BY THE WINDOW. next to an exhausted looking young man who doesn’t appear to be much older than her. she SMILES at him, out of politeness  ̶ ̶ ̶  illuminated by the morning light. she’s half done with her coffee when he speaks   ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶   and she realizes that he’s not exhausted. he’s drunk. at 7:30  in the morning  ❛  i’m cosette   ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶  are you okay ? can i buy you a coffee ?

fantiine:

                                                  whoever touches her feels cold.

11.28.15 19 notes  via