A woman appeared into a bedroom, empty but filled with filtered voices from nearby. After a quick look around, her nose flared angrily and she stormed through the house to where she heard people.
"Why the hell am I here?"
She was gorgeous, even beyond her scars. Top model looks, with the 5'8 height to match. Memorizing dark gold eyes with little flecks of yellow that looked like sparkles; naturally thick and long lashes framing them. Her muscular body with a perfect mixture of curves and slimness that just enhanced her beauty. High and prominent cheekbones—except the one, which was caved in from an old wound—full and soft looking lips, sharp and defined jawline—even the faint scars that marred her seemingly flawless, naturally light tan skin highlighted her looks. Long and luscious golden red hair spilled around her shoulders to the middle of her back. She was the picture of beauty, and she definitely used to her advantage when she wanted to. She's seduced men and women alike with a simple touch and calculated look.
And not to mention her clothes. She wore a pair of high waisted black shorts that hugged her hips, as well as a black stylishly baggy off-the-shoulder long-sleeved crop top and knee-high black heeled boots. Flawless winged eyeliner lined her eyes, and that, paired with a simple nude lip gloss, remained her only makeup.
But despite her looks, she was very clearly pissed about being somewhere she didn't want to be.