prima | {sophie/garnet} blitz

Sitting pretty — that's what Sophie Fray does best. She files her nails with throwing knives and rests her head against walls stained with blood. Dreamily; as if a great war has passed and the time has come to finally rest. The girl is lazy straight down to her core, content to lounge in sunlight and watch as the world passes her by. She's in no rush to catch up. Perhaps there's a difference between patience and sloth, but learning would mean listening.

She yawns. Her ballet classes are no less boring, more of a social requirement than an actual hobby. Sophie has no quarrels keeping up appearances, but there's no need to actually put forth any effort. Her birth had been enough of a success for her mother, and with one crown atop their legacy and other lives to spare above that of their youngest, they never pressured her to harden herself. Perhaps all the Frays ever wanted was a soft child, sweet as honey — perhaps this is the cruelest of their creations.

White envelopes and white smiles; she has a written excuse to get her out of any activity. Her trainers have ceased arguing, and when the time comes for the seasonal dance recitals, she's always given a chance to shine. Perched on a pedestal, of course, or carried gently across the stage. It's grand — how you can earn a standing ovation without once standing up yourself. She runs her fingers through her hair, blowing and popping bubblegum to count the passing minutes.

A voice calls out to her, and it's enough for her to at least roll over on the cloud of her thoughts. She listens with distant eyes and a tired smile, even laughing to herself once she's certain that her friend has finished speaking. Not that she really cares. "Hey, stranger." She unfolds her arms, rolling her shoulders for good measure. "No, babe. You're the gorgeous one." She hadn't been called that, but she's sure Garnet thought it.

"Are you here waiting on a guy, too?
I always wondered when you'd stop being so uptight."