oceanhunters:

T E E N A G E  G I R L S  +  M Y T H O L O G Y: Persephone

She smells of flowers, like the first day of spring. Her lips are pink from the pomegranate juice that she sucks from a carton, sat barefoot on the grass outside as she skips class. Head held high, new students make the mistake of thinking she is harmless. They learn their lesson. Sharp objects lurk beneath folds of material, the red of her nail polish there to hide that of a similar colour. She fights, hard and dirty, argues, cries in a bathroom stall, breaks hearts and forgets she has one of her own.