starconjurer
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Lottie’s eyes follow up past the boots to silver legs, at the waist a dark, leather sheath, and further up, more silver.
A knight.
Lottie’s eyes trail all the way up to reveal blonde hair, a pretty, pale face, and blue eyes that aren't even looking at her, they're looking behind her, over her shoulder, and clearly in concern. -
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Her index finger stings on the metal of the rifle, it always tells her to stop, it stings so much.
“Nat, it's me,” The shadow says, less distorted this time, sounding more humane, but still begging to be asked whether it's in her head or not.
Natalie freezes up. Her finger rests on the trigger, her breath drops, and her eyes dead set on the thing in front of her.
The shadow makes its way closer, growing larger in her field of view.
The shadow is kind, Natalie thinks. It lets her rethink her decisions; it gives her room to drop the rifle and turn back inside.
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All Lottie does is glance at Natalie, and she looks pretty. Natalie’s always pretty Lottie thinks but, the warm, orange, candlelight color that bounces off of Natalie's face from the sunset definitely works wonders on her complexion.
Yeah, that's it, the lighting, Lottie thinks.
Natalie's not looking back so Lottie figures she can look at her from the corner of her eyes a little longer.
“What’re you staring at Matthews?”