ALIFA Océane WAS NOT USUALLY THE HEAVIEST OF SLEEPERS...... SO SHE SAYS.
AND YET, the heavy rattling of the luggage and the rushing of dainty feet, not to mention the sudden halt of the train did absolutely nothing to wake her from her death-like slumber.
Her head rested against the cool window, her slow breath fogging it a little. She was in peace.
Those d*mn pills.
Her childhood headaches had now nearly fully subsided as they evaded back into her far subconscious, where usually resided dormant... until they were to return like clockwork.
But peace, is ephemeral.
Before she knew it, her breath began to quicken.
Her chest began rising and falling at a quicker pace. The coolness of the window now being reduced to but a mere sting, as it did nothing to cool her sudden sweating forehead. Her thick dark edges began to stick to her nubian skin.
Alifa's head began to move a little, her body stirring as she twitched.
The heat rising was near unbearable now, the sudden hot flush left tingles, blistering tingles. Her feet, her sleek booted feet began thumping, thumping and thumping. An erratic, unordered cadence.
Her nails, now scraping like talons, gripped the clear wood of the chair's armrest. The selcouth feeling of oak under her nails would have had her wanting to rip her fingers right off with disgust at the feeling, had she been fully conscious.
The headache, resonating and re-spreading through her head, the feeling of thousands of suns scorching and melting her brain, a thumping, groaning, utterings,
Thumping, hitting, tapping, ta-
"Alifa, Alifa- Océane, get up!"
Alifa's copper eyes shot open like arrows, with a precision that even the devil would quiver under. Her dark sepia hand snapping off of the wood and gripping flesh. Her friends flesh.
It stung.
Nikita's hands escaped its clutches lightening fast. A hiss leaving her tongue, like sizzling oil, spluttering in the heat.
"Ahh, ash," her eyes narrowed for a moment, checking her wrist, the gold of the Cartier bracelet shone gently against her dark tanned skin. Her eyes then shot up to her friends figure.
YOU ARE READING
THIS MEANS WAR (ONGOING)
Teen FictionBurvington Preparatory Academy of Excellence. Home of the "Burlie" Boys. The richest , said to be strongest and some of the most genius minds in all of Great Britain. Home to the 4 most powerful boys (and then some) . They do, say and be who the...