‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍* ‍ 𝙿𝙾𝚆𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝙵 𝙰 𝙿𝙴𝙽

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[‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍* ‍ 𝙿𝙾𝚆𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝙵 𝙰 𝙿𝙴𝙽 @writtenichor]

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 * 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝘐 𝙲͟𝙰͟𝙽͟𝙽͟𝙾͟𝚃 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘝𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘯!
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[‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍* ‍ 𝙿𝙾𝚆𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝙵 𝙰 𝙿𝙴𝙽 @writtenichor]

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⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝖤𝗑𝖾𝖼𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁
⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗈𝗆𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗄𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌.
⠀

[‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍* ‍ 𝙿𝙾𝚆𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝙵 𝙰 𝙿𝙴𝙽 @writtenichor]

eager to have this woman start? Her hands rub together, a flirtatious smile of her own easily finding her lips.

[‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍* ‍ 𝙿𝙾𝚆𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝙵 𝙰 𝙿𝙴𝙽 @writtenichor]

Fortune is a tailored perspective, differing with each individual personality. Dylan sees herself as the one who caught luck by the string. Their first meeting might not have been as innocent as it seemed, the Reporter knowing exactly who Sarah Ingram and +

[‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍* ‍ 𝙿𝙾𝚆𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝙵 𝙰 𝙿𝙴𝙽 @writtenichor]

inhale, hands running down toned thighs almost nervously at the glimmer within brown eyes and crossing over her hips. Something about it makes Dylan, well, nervous. . . Especially after so long without attention. “Well. . . When can you? I can start you tomorrow.” Why is she so +

[‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍* ‍ 𝙿𝙾𝚆𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝙵 𝙰 𝙿𝙴𝙽 @writtenichor]

There’s no reason not to trust Cam, right? Tan arms cross over her chest but in a manner that is friendly, approachable.

[‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍* ‍ 𝙿𝙾𝚆𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝙵 𝙰 𝙿𝙴𝙽 @writtenichor]

“Sorry.” It’s a sheepish utterance, scratching at the back of her neck. “Everything is a mess.” That is a serious understatement. Running the Bulletin, it’s proving difficult. To put it lightly, it is a maze of wrongly filed paperwork and financial mishap, the boring chores of +

[‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍* ‍ 𝙿𝙾𝚆𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝙵 𝙰 𝙿𝙴𝙽 @writtenichor]

cleared. “The Bulletin’s, ugh, how do I say this politically, in need of some serious work.” Another fucking understatement. “I can barely find my own head right now, let alone a phone. I don’t know how Sarah deals with me, honestly.” Dylan hands over her phone with a nod. +

[‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍* ‍ 𝙿𝙾𝚆𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝙵 𝙰 𝙿𝙴𝙽 @writtenichor]

which wander about their duties. “I can try you out on a trial. If there’s anything you need to learn, I’m sure I can teach you.”

[‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍* ‍ 𝙿𝙾𝚆𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝙵 𝙰 𝙿𝙴𝙽 @writtenichor]

Dylan leans against a desk, arm balancing atop it’s partition. Sugared pupils do not stray, piercing in their intensity but welcoming. Fingertips tap lazily, a part of Dylan always requiring movement. This specific position exposes a midriff, the +

[‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍* ‍ 𝙿𝙾𝚆𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝙵 𝙰 𝙿𝙴𝙽 @writtenichor]

suppleness. Not something a married woman should be admiring, but it’s unavoidable. Distracted she grows, tongue dipping out to moisten her lip and she scratches at the edge of her jaw. Tiffany seems nice enough, positive. It could be a sweet change to the wandering zombies +

[‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍* ‍ 𝙿𝙾𝚆𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝙵 𝙰 𝙿𝙴𝙽 @writtenichor]

still seeming to be overburdened. Folders are lifted, papers looked under until her phone is plucked out. “Gotta put it on a string.” She teases, taking the shit out of herself. “You want me to plug it in or is it easier for you to do it?”

[‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍* ‍ 𝙿𝙾𝚆𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝙵 𝙰 𝙿𝙴𝙽 @writtenichor]

Being in a marriage with Sarah is not necessarily the easiest feat. Dylan loves her wife. Completely. But she’s a tormenting soul, taunting herself and adding to her already substantial burden. “I wish she would just ease up on herself.” If anyone knew Sarah better than +

[‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍* ‍ 𝙿𝙾𝚆𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝙵 𝙰 𝙿𝙴𝙽 @writtenichor]

the other. Phone. Right. Shit. Did she leave it at home? Fuck. “Ahh. Just let me find my phone. It’s been a day.” That’s putting it lightly. Alison didn’t necessarily run the business perfectly, rather barely. Her desk is chaotic perfection, everything having it’s place but +