.t h e . p e n t h o u s e.
Light began to stream through the uncurtained windows of the penthouse apartment, overlooking a part of the suburbs thick with buildings. Light assaulted her eyes and August tossed on the white linen, her slender limbs tangled up in the sheets. A low groan spilled out of her, finding that her spine and shoulders ached something terrible. Pale green orbs winced into the sunlight, wondering if she'd even slept at all.
Her clothing from the night before lay in a heap beside the bed, recklessly shed at whatever ungodly hour she'd stumbled in the previous night. Where had she gone? There were a more few drinks involved, of that one could be certain, but the details eluded her hazy mind.
August lifted herself from the bed, restless, and dragged herself into a shower. The steam heat did wonders for her sore parts.
She was still moving her things, so the apartment seemed spacious and sterile- but interior decorating could wait for another day.
Today was reserved for a trip to the slave market.
