Unoriginality for Sara
- Locked due to inactivity on Aug 4, '16 4:34pm
Thread Topic: Unoriginality for Sara
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yeah sounds good
The girl sighed, standing up when the day was over. She was exhausted. Samantha began to walk down the stairs of the building, slowly. She knew it would be catastrophic if she fell. Oh, the damage would be terrible and painful. Samantha inhaled a little, holding her breath. Impatient workers ran past her and almost tripped her. Annoyed, she tried to move a little quicker.
buses are..meh -
Finally free, he headed for the stairs, rushing down them to get outside and be free. He nearly tripped a woman in a black dress who, he quickly realized, was the same one from earlier. He managed to catch her before she could fall, and awkwardly removed himself from her personal space as she regained her balance. "Sorry. Again." Now a few steps below her, he glanced up, reading her expression for any potential anger.
buses aren't that bad but i guessss he can drive -
Samantha sighed, slight annoyance filling her. However, she tried to manage a small smile. She flipped her hair, trying to get to the bottom of the stairs as quickly as possible. "Tomorrow I'm so dressing down for work." She thought to herself. In her purse, she had the sticky note that the man's number and such was on, figuring it might not hurt to get her pink dress cleaned. She would call him as soon as she got home.
yaaaah -
He stood there until she opened the door and left, watching with a sense of disappointment in himself. How had he managed to mess up twice in one day? Work was impossible. He eventually headed down the stairs and to the parking structure in which he'd parked that morning.
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Samantha moved over to her pink car, sighing. Sometimes she wished she'd have a bigger car. She turned over the ignition, wracking her brain to remember the correct way out of the parking lot. "Oh yeah, right, okay." She drove through the parking lot with much more ease than she had yesterday, and Samantha was on the road in no time, heading to her shabby apartment.
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He had no trouble remembering where his car was, or how to get out of the structure. He drove home with no trouble, happy to finally be free. He had no desire to cook anything that night, and was trying to decide what he'd order out for the evening. By the time he was home, he'd decided on Chinese food. Fortunately, he had his favorite restaurant's number saved to his phone. He called and ordered his usual.
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Samantha sighed when she got home, beginning to undress. For a moment, she sat on her bed like that, putting a brush through her knotty hair. Eventually, she put on a comfortable white long sleeve shirt and black sweat pants. She looked down on her soiled pink dress, sighing. Samantha began to search in her wine colored purse for the man's number. Frustrated, she eventually found the number. She left it on the bed for a moment, going to go make some mac and cheese in her microwave.
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He gave them his address and headed off to his bedroom to change. The apartment was large, lit mostly by windows, and modern. Well, modern except for the ridiculous piles of books he kept everywhere. The house had impressive, built-in bookshelves, but he didn't really bother to use them. The stacks sat on almost every surface, most changing contents frequently. They were organized in a way that showed that he was looking for... something, not just a way to appear scholarly and pretentious. His parents hated it. Connelly thought it was one of the most beautiful homes available.
He changed out of his work clothing and into a pair of grey sweat pants, pairing it with a t-shirt from some school event from his senior year. He headed over to the master bathroom to take out his contacts and replace them with a pair of thick-framed, dark brown glasses. -
Samantha than flipped open the phone, dialing the number. This caused her to swallow her pride, realizing how awkward this was going to be. She decided to use her regular, calm voice on the phone. She didn't need to seem all dressed up for a man she didn't care about. Samantha opened the microwave as phone rung, taking out her food. When the call was eventually accepted, she tried not to panic too much. "Hi! Um, it's the girl from work earlier? I got your um..note." She stated.
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"The one who I accidentally spilled coffee-- Sara Levant, right?" he said into the phone, which he'd just pulled from his pocket. He inspected himself in the mirror, then, in an absent-minded manner, said, "Glad you picked it up. Sorry if that seemed... rude."
Phone held to his ear, he walked back through the apartment and out into the living room, where he'd last left his laptop. He sat on the couch and opened it up, navigating with one hand. -
"No, not at all!" Samantha admitted, "It's cool, it was kind of sweet..actually." The girl ate macaroni and cheese on the floor, trying to chew as quietly as possible. Samantha held the phone to her ear while doing this, which made it slightly difficult. She was in a much better mood now, those dresses hugged her hips and stomach to the core. Samantha had a bit of a bittersweet relationship with them. Love-hate, if you will.
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"Oh, okay. Great. Can you hold on for a second?" he asked as the doorbell rang. Before she could answer, he set down the phone and went to answer the door. He paid for the food, once again tipping well, and set it in the kitchen before retrieving the phone again. "Sorry. Food arrived," he explained as he held the phone up with his shoulder and grabbed a box, dishing some of the food out onto a plate. Then he grabbed a drink from the fridge and headed out into the living room. "So... what do you want me to do? If you want it cleaned, I'd like you to take it somewhere where they already know me. Unless you have a place you prefer."
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"I think I'll have it cleaned." She stated, calmly. Samantha had already finished half of the small bowl of macaroni, and now scavenged her fridge for something to drink. Pushing past many food items, she eventually found a can of cherry soda. She opened the can, taking a small, quick sip. "Thank you for being so kind." Samantha stated, warmly. She gazed upon her clothes on the floor, frowning. 'I wish I had some drawers.' She thought to herself, emptily.
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It's the least I could do after something like that," he said, opening his soda and taking a quiet sip. "Do you want me to give you the address or should I pick the dress up?" He took a bite of his food and reached for the remote, turning on the TV and searching for something to watch.
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"I'll just take your address, I have nothing better to do anyways." Samantha answered, putting a hand on her hip. She flipped her hair out of her face, taking another drink of her soda. She remembered her mother- the last time she saw her. Samantha frowned. 'If only I knew where she was..' She thought to herself, sighing quietly. They had went to a movie on her eighteenth movie. Afterwards, she took off. Never to be seen again. Although it hurt Sam, she had to go on with her life.
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