<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/WWwpV9U.jpg?1)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Delaney Clarke (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=308599.msg15011810#msg15011810)<br/><strong>Age:</strong>27<br/><strong>Sexuality:</strong>Pansexual<br/><strong>Hometown:</strong>Mina, Nevada<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>3 July, 2019 | Early Morning<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Villa Daybed<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Grey tank top, pink panties. (http://picture-cdn.wheretoget.it/5u1d23-l-610x610-underwear-pink+panties-panties-alexandra+daddario.jpg)<br/><strong>Coupled with:</strong>No one #SingleAF<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Mark<br/><br/><hr/><br/><br/>The night before had been a whirlwind. Her brief interaction with Mark followed by an absolutely lackluster diary entry had rounded out the night, and while waiting for Mark to finish his century long shower she had fallen asleep on the couch. By the time she roused enough to recognize he was out, it was the early hours of the morning so she’d changed clothes and crawled directly in to bed, unfortunately, sans shower.<br/><br/>Delaney was feeling the weight of sleepless nights. The unique stress of this place and the disgustingly oppressive heat of sleeping on the patio coupled to create a perfect storm. Her guess was that very few of the Islanders were sleeping well but that didn’t ease the sting of gradually drifting awake before the dawn.<br/><br/>Before the sun, just before it, was the coolest time of the night. The warmth had faded as much as it was going to and had yet to begin the slow, unpleasant ascent to sweltering. If there was any respite from the climate, it was then.<br/><br/>Unless you lived in a house full of 15 other people.<br/><br/>At least one of which has to be<em>that guy</em>. The one that wakes up at the ass crack of dawn to do... whatever the fuck he was doing.<br/><br/>It came to her like a dream...the soft but rustle of shoes against pavement. Distant at first her eyes stayed closed. She stirred gently, probably unnoticeably, and had just started to fade back into that comfortable, languid sleep of early morning when she heard the whistling.<br/><br/>She didn’t wake abruptly but little by little became more aware until the hazy state of half-sleep gave way acutely to annoyance.<br/><br/>"Are you serious?" she grumbled quietly at him from her cocoon of blankets.<br/><br/>At first from where he was he could probably see a mass under the fluffy comforter and possibly the top of her head. She stirred a bit more discernibly then pulled the blanket down from her face to look at him.<br/><br/>Peering from the daybed were disgruntled blue eyes, furrowed brows, and an unruly tangle of hair that...at some point...had kind of been pulled up into a messy bun.<br/><br/>"Why are you here?" she added. Despite her impatience with the whole deal, her question seemed imbued with a playfully interrogative tone.<br/><br/>