courtney has a relatively short fuse. duncan knows this of course, but that doesn’t stop him from testing her limits each and every day. while courtney does her best to look her sunday best ( which is rather difficult on a remote island with a lack of proper water filtration ) her coif is disheveled as she fetches herself a glass of overly pulped orange juice, pajamas askew on her shoulder. today was an off day [ thank the LORD ] which means she could attempt to spend her day in peace. when the familiar squeak of duncan’s converse sneakers hit the kitchen’s tile, courtney lets out a groan as she glares at the delinquent. ‘ what are YOU doing here, duncan? ’ she scoffs, voice still thick with sleep. courtney shuts the fridge and leans against it, glass of orange juice clasped in her hands. she is immediately suspicious. what possible reason could HE have to be up so early on a free day? well, whatever excuse he has she’s not buying it. the smirk on his lips only has her deepening her scowl, highlighting the bags under her eyes.
↪ @rebeltyped
1 note
·
View note