❝ And that's Marlowe - better known as Mar...❞
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𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐞. You rarely catch her without sand-covered skin and dark locks winded up from saltwater. Born and raised on the island, with a house that radiates...
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
𝐈n her hand is a red coffee cup, cradled against her chest as if to cherish the warmth. Only it's not the calming smell of coffee that's lingering in the cup. It's orange juice. And a coffee cup was the only thing she could find that wasn't stacked in a dirty pile on the counter.
John B's still fast asleep on the couch. The others had gone home last night- even JJ. Although he must've left pretty late considering he was there when Marlowe fell asleep and gone when she woke up.
The two had talked for a while last night. Well, she talked. He listened. To every letter of every little word. What she'd caught her sister doing in the early morning didn't come as a surprise to him. He'd heard it all before; from the carelessness of Evelyn's actions to the disappointment in Marlowe's voice.
And maybe that's why he didn't quite find his own words- why he simply settled with listening to hers.
Either way, she'd found comfort in his presence alone.
A content smile tugs on the corners of her lips. She peeks out the window. Her left hand gently rubs her right forearm, feeling the small injury she'd obtained a few days prior. It doesn't hurt- not a lot, anyway, but it's still a foreign shade of pink against her otherwise sunkissed skin.
Three loud knocks rumble against the wood of the door, snapping her out of her thoughtful state. Bright blue eyes widen slightly, breath hitching as a reaction to the sudden noise.
A muffled voice calls from the other side of the wall. "DCS! I know you're in there!"
"Ah- shit," she mumbles hurriedly.
John B stirs, his mind rushing to contemplate the situation.
They share a look of worry. The brunette brings a finger to her lips, suggesting for him to stay quiet.
She shifts closer to the door, one hand resting on the knob as she collects her thoughts.
"What are you doin'?" he whispers.
She assures him, "I'll tell them you're not home or something."
The door creaks open and she sticks her head out. Left to right. Right to left.
