| Subject: ·Independent· |
Author:
Fowler
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Date Posted: 09:01:27 01/13/02 Sun
In reply to:
. . . j o r • d a n . . .
's message, "º . • l o n e • ranger • . º" on 23:32:07 01/12/02 Sat
Idly folding the edges of a napkin, the young woman of certain pedigree allows her stormy gaze of (partial) green to wander towards the medium-sized window beside the small booth. Intelligent mind of she roams through her past, her possible future, as he vision settles vaguely 'pon the campus's sidewalk just outside the diner. SIngle nod is formed at the sentences of Madison, knowing that many people like to visit wild places, but live in a land of quiet peace. "You either love Miami, or you hate it."
Ambling view of she sharpens, the smallest double-take, as Fowler traces the form of an oddly-dressed man (not many people go to college clothed in western attire). Initial emotion within the beauty's soul is surprise to see such a student, but curiosity soon overthrows all other thoughts. The exquisite sophomore leans back within her seat, intense gaze turning towards the opening door of the diner.
It takes all of thirty seconds for the Miami native to realize that this cowboy is Madison brother- her handsome brother. Smallest grin flutters to her face, a mild flirtation as the young man strolls over in the direction of the two girls.
It only takes another thirty seconds for the wonderful traces of the smile to vanish from her flawless expression. Opinionated belle watches Jordan's treatment of Madison with a growing anger, obviously not liking the situation at hand (for her friend). To her surprise, the blonde actually gets up and follows his demands while he falls into her seat. If it had been her, Fowler, the outcome of what just happened would have been a lot different- the remainder of her hot chocolate would be all over him.
Moving her attractive body to where she leans closer to the handsome, obnoxious brother of Madison, it seems that she is about to start a coy interaction. First words are soft and sweet, as if in awe of Jordan's very aura, yet each syllable gradually hardens into a rebellious, steel-like abrasive. "I hope you don't think I'm impressed, Cowboy. And if you think you're going to order me around, sweet talk me into submission, or ask me for a massage, you're going to wish you never met this 'lil lady friend' of your sister."
Not a threat, but more of a warning towards the arrogant one. Internally, she is almost disturbed by the fact that such a handsome face could have such a cavalier attitude towards his family, and possibly towards all women. Physically, she found the man attractive- quite attractive, but mentally her first impression of him is along opposite lines. "And next time you ask Madison to run a petty errand, why don't you act a bit more polite?"
Depthless chasms of pattern'd brown and green smolder with a passion for freedom; for independence. No one had ever subdued the fire which lingers within the soul of the honey-hued vixen, and her strong will'd nature shines through each breath she draws. "My name's Fowler." The initiative for this introduction of herself is not a giggling flirtation, but a solid reason that the term "lil lady friend" will not be attached to her figure again.
Perhaps frienship between the two is possible, if both comprimised from opposite attitudes. Opposites attract: most people think only of intimate relationships, but some friendships are based on this as well. Only time held the secret of the near future.
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