S

JUGGIE

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His mother was the opposite, firmly on the maternal end of things. Which meant he was fussed about, had a broom shaken in his direction on countless occasions, and always knew he had someone to rely on at the end of the day. Although things had substantially changed, he knew that hadn’t. The mess his parents made didn’t change the fact that they were still his parents – although it felt like it meant more to him just then. A bruise around his eye would inevitably lead to a fight between them, and he didn’t need that any more than he needed their worry. He listened quietly, nodding minutely as she carried on, listening to the rise and fall of her voice before he was told to close his eyes.

Leaning back with heavy eyelids fluttering, the darkness had his hearing suddenly spike, and beneath the ‘S’ emblazoned on his chest he could hear his heartbeat, soft and resolute. Her touch was cool, more the liquid’s fault than her fingers, but there was something strangely soothing about the light movements of her hand over his face. “Bad fall,” he repeated, barely moving the muscles in his face enough to enunciate. “Maybe I should use that line.” It would never fly in the court of Jones. You must work some serious magic, Daph –” Eyes fluttering open to look at her again as a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. – because I wasn’t worth that much before.

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              𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓? 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒: 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒? Daphne had never doubted the possibility of friendship: despite the aura of confidence and perfection she knew from countless sources she exuded, there was a real girl under all the glitter and sparkle, the mystery and the intrigue. You didn’t even have to DIG that far to find her, just had to be willing to believe that people were more than their stereotypes. 

Oh, hush, you. Make-up’s like putting on clothes, in my opinion. It should never look like the outfit’s wearing you. Your face isn’t just the canvas, it’s also the painting. And now I’m MIXING METAPHORS. ❜ She gives a toss of her head, putting down the last brush. ❛ Bruise? What bruise? I don’t see a bruise!” Daphne smirks. ❛ I really do enjoy being a girl. So, what do we think? How did I do? ❜

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