Name: Sam Caldwell<br/>Location: Sam's Room<br/>Approximate Time: 7:52 am<br/>Tagging/Mentioned: Deke (<a class="username" data-user-id="35804" data-username="@greybishop" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://bluemoonroleplaying.com/community/members/35804/">@greybishop</a>)<br/>Wearing: Leather Lingerie Outfit<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>She breathed in and out slowly waiting for some type of livid reaction, expecting him to slap her across the face. But he didn't, in fact he did the opposite. Her expression grew both confused, and worried at watching him step back, releasing her breast from his grip and moving away. She tilted her head to the side some curiously, her long black hair running along her chest and shoulder. She gave him a confounded look as he started applauding her... her insult? She crossed her arms around her chest, skeptical and bewildered by his praises. She squinted studying him... he didn't appear to be mocking him, but seemed somehow genuinely pleased.. 'what the hell is this guys deal? Whats his game?' She didn't know, but the space he gave her felt like a boon, some small measure of control.<br/><br/>Her eyes lit up a bit on hearing his words, a shard of hope at getting out of this horror show. The casual way he spoke, his combat knife no longer in hand made her feel slightly more at ease, though she still felt completely vulnerable in her leather cladded. "Oh!... I-I didn't think that's what you meant.." What kind of girls would hangout with a psycho like this willingly? Were they some kind of gang... one of Baxter's piece of shit friend cliques? Blush came over her cheeks at his gaze locking back onto her eyes, he spoke of the invitation as though it were something to revere, as though it were an honor or something.<br/><br/>She sat down on her bed, grabbing a pillow and setting it on her lap and squeezing it with her fingers. She looked up at him, watching him turn away, like he had heard something...but there was nothing there. It was eerie. She moved her mouth around as he spoke, feeling irritated at this line of questioning. She didn't like to think about her family, or the fact she was dependent on them... it made her stomach twist. "I don't exactly...<i>Want</i>to be here. Fuck... I can't wait to get out!" She placed a hand on her forehead looking away from him, letting her fingers massage her temple. She looked back to him, frowning, "Yeah!? And so what if he did? I might as well<i>get </i>something from him while I'm around... cause when I graduate. I'm gone." She shook her head, giving out a small chuckle. He had no idea of the family dynamics, that she was practically a ghost. "No... no-one has ever seen it. And no-one would give a fuck if they did. Not with... perfect little angel and bad boy Baxter taking up my parents time." She looked at him again, "Y-you know Baxter.. this shit... this fucking shit is his fault... and the funny thing is. They would forgive him... again. They have never done anything for me... I'm the white noise they go to sleep to at night" Her mouth twisted into a sneer, her emotions were all over the place. Though she almost treasured this moment for not feeling like she was about to die, living in it. "I got this cause<i>I </i>like it. And no. I'm not good. I'm the thorn in their shoe to help remind them they aren't perfect. That life sucks.<i>You</i>prove how much things aren't fair. Fucking Baxter..." She almost wanted to cry from the anger swelling in her chest.