Not-so Prince Charming - Closed AU rp with demon-madam -
humbledemonservant:
Sabrina had been talking and laughing with her best friend for over an hour or two now. Angelina and her had kicked it off about a year ago, after the dark brunette had just moved into town, and right next door to the other. She smiles happily, her light brown eyes glimmering brightly, as she looks to the red head, as they got to talking about their jobs.
“Yeah, the restaurant has been going well, even been told that if I keep up my good work, I’ll find myself as the new Head Chef,” the young woman went on saying with a giggle smiling proudly. She’s worked hard to get to where she was now. She went through a lot of classes in the culinary arts, worked in a few restaurants before but this time she found the place where she found herself becoming the more dominant chef. And she loved it!
Before more could be said, her phone beeps, and she looks down, seeing a text. She blinks and looks over it before grinning a radiant kind of smile that many could say lit up an entire room. She was typing up a reply as she explained to Anne what was going on.
“Oooooh! Anne, you’ll finally be able to meet my boyfriend, Mason!” She then tells her excitedly. “He’s getting off work now and is driving over!”
The red-head’s laughter was heard from where she’s currently sprawled over the sofa, the wineglass in hand swirling from side to side slowly. There is an elegance about the woman that remains hard to explain, and yet, a lonely quality. Her living room is void of the typical snapshots of family; and if it wasn’t for the fireplace crackling softly along the back wall? It would have been far too sterile and eerie. Almost un-lived in. But she’s a physician– surely that can be explained easily. That’s just their life style– too busy to place out their personal effects.
Hanging above the fire place, was an elegantly painted portrait of some noble– his hair painted in such a way that almost made it look blue in the lighting. When asked about it? She always told people it was something she found at an auction– it had grown on her. Although from time to time the woman could be caught staring longingly at the painting– lost in her memories.
“Really?” The woman inquires, forcing herself to sit up slowly. “Oh, I’ll have to go place on something more presentable then!” The comfortable robe she’s wearing certainly isn’t proper enough for unknown company. It had been fine in the company of her friend, however.
“I finally get to meet Mr. Perfect. It’s taken you long enough— I was starting to think he was a myth.” The woman teases.
