- Exit Wounds // The Script

Model change because the pics of Flavia weren't quite right. The quote is really a lot more depressing than Isa usually is just FYI but it’s the only one I could think of at the present moment and it does kinda fit.

So I’ve included both the bios and written half the story from Isa’s point of view and half from Adrian’s. I’ll probably go with her though but you know I’ll write him quite often because this wasn’t as hard as I thought It’d be, I actually really really enjoyed writing for him [Even though I still think he sounds to feminine -.-]

name: Isabella Allen
age: 24
quote or lyric to describe you character : 
"Marks of battle, they still feel raw
A million pieces of me, on the floor
I'm damaged goods, for all to see
Now who would ever wanna be with me?" 
likes: Music, Adrian, laughing, heels, old songs, sunglasses, crime shows, tattoos, bottled water, flirting, compliments, bright colours, happy people, working hard, the truth
dislikes: Fake nails, heavy make-up, condescension, romantic comedies, infomercials, generic pop music, blushing, having to admit she’s wrong, hypocrisy, dating
style: Whatever the hell she feels like. Isa loves experimenting with different styles and looks.
previous occupation: Ran an exclusive boutique with her best friend Adrian
education : studied at FIDM
bio: Isabella is about as blunt as can be, plain and simple as that. She tells it like it is so don’t ask her opinion if you can’t take it. She is a fun and flirty girl, always up for a good time whether that’s going out to a club or gossiping about celebrities. Isa can often be found with her best friend Adrian causing mischief and occasionally pulling practical jokes. She’s very serious about styling, driven and focused she’s determined to win but has strong morals so she’d never step over anyone to do it. Isabella is certainly one of a kind, a bit of a contradiction but at the end of the day she’s a lovely girl, a great friend and an even better stylist.
model: Mona Johannesson

Collection: www.polyvore.com/cgi/collection?id=2096340

name: Adrian Norton
age: 20
quote or lyric to describe you character : 
Women and men we are the same 
but love will always be a game
likes: Glasses, people, Isabella, attention, getting his own way, tattoos, smoking, indie music, tumblr, sleeping around, being liked, humor,
dislikes: being ignored, cocktails, whiney people, popular music, people who are fake, shorts, violence, concentrating, school,
style: Despite having an impeccable and classy eye for fashion he dresses himself like a hipster. A high class hipster, but a hipster none the less.
previous occupation: Ran an exclusive boutique with his best friend Isabella
bio: Adrian is cheeky and charming, he has a way with people and can talk anyone, men and women, into doing almost anything including falling into bed with him. He has a pretty poor relationship with his family because they don’t approve of his lifestyle and choices, though they never were the closest of families. After he graduated high school he began working at a small little boutique run by one Miss Isabella Allen, before long however she saw his potential and he became co-owner but also gained his best friend. Careful of this one, he can get most people to do anything he wants, and sometimes he doesn’t think of the consequences
model: Harry Styles

[Isabella]

“Isa, my love, my shining star.” Adrian’s voice drifted through my cell phone, entirely to cheery considering it was after midnight.

“Who couldn’t keep it in their pants tonight?” I asked him with a sigh, leaning back against my headboard, “You or Bradley.”

“That’s rather presumptuous.” There was a pause for a second, “So can I come over?”

“You’re already here aren’t you?” I said as I snuggled back into my quilt. I’d heard the door before but thought I’d imagined it. Clearly it had actually been Adrian letting himself in.

“Guilty as charged.” He was suddenly leaning on my doorframe, grinning cheekily at me and still speaking into the phone.

“You are an absolute twit.” I informed him, hanging up the phone and glaring. Or managing as much of a glare as I could so late at night.

“But I’m the most loveable and roguishly charming twit you’ll ever have the pleasure of meeting.” He dropped his phone on my vanity table before launching himself on the bed next to me (his habit of doing so one of the main reasons I’d invested in a king sized bed) “So what are we watching?” He asked me gesturing to the tv hanging from the wall opposite my bed, paused on what I’d been watching before he’d called “No let me guess, Criminal Minds?”

“No,” I sniffed, the bed shifting as he lay down next to me, “Not even close.”

“Oh my bad,” He said dryly, “What is it then? NCIS? Castle? CSI?” He started rattling off the names of cop shows. Frankly I’d be insulted that he’d suggested I watched CSI. That was if I hadn’t known he’d done it on purpose.

“Covert Affairs, but nice try dear.” I smirked, patting his cheek as I moved so I was lying down instead of leaning against the headboard.

“Is that even a cop show?” He wondered out loud, “Isn’t Law and Order and stuff more cop like than that?”

“Law and Order has Law and is really boring and dry.” I sighed, we probably had a script written for this conversation. , “There is no team chemistry. And CSI is stupid because why are the scientists being detectives. It’s to much suspension of disbelief.”

“But you’ll believe profilers can be detectives?” He asked not really caring just trying to elicit a reaction.

“Criminal minds is different because at least they actually are FBI agents.” I explained, turning onto my side so I could face him, “Just because you are a pretentious hipster wanker doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t watch things that are fun.”

He mirrored my movement, turning to face me “Darling if you think crime shows and murder and kidnapping is fun, you are more messed up than I thought.” He reached out to flick my nose gently.

“Oh shut up you know what I mean.” I ruffled his hair in retaliation, amazed as always that his hair was so damn soft, “I want to watch something I don’t always have to hurt my brain thinking about.”

“No you watch things that you don’t have to think about at all.” It amazed me a human beings voice could be so dry, the way Adrian talked something.

“Quiet time.” I pressed my finger over his lips, grabbing the remote to resume the show, “I really think Annie and Auggie are going to get it on in this one.”

—
[Adrian]

It was after 8 o’clock when I woke up. Which was weird because Isa usually woke me up before 7 on work days. Sitting up with a yawn I realised why she hadn’t woken me up yet. It was because she was still asleep. Isabella Allen who probably hadn’t slept past 6 her entire life was still asleep at 8:30 in the morning. And we had our first appointment at 9:30.

“Isa, Isa darling.” I leant over her, squeezing her shoulder to try and wake her up. I was clueless but I’d never done this before. Sue me. “Time to wake up.” He eyelashes sort of fluttered but that was the extent of her movement.

I actually had no clue what to do so I decide to just let her sleep, putting the coffee machine in her kitchen on, taking a shower and dressing using the clothes I left in her spare room precisely for these situations. I figured she’d probably just wake up soon.

By the time I made my way back into her room at 5 to 9, two coffees in my hand she was still asleep. I rolled my eyes, depositing her coffee on the bedside table and sipping mine as I entered her walk in wardrobe.

2 minutes later I exited, carrying clothes for her and depositing them on the chair. She took half an hour regularly to decide what to wear so I’d done it for her. And the skirt was super short so any time she sat down I’d get a eyeful of leg. Win win for everyone.

“Isa,” I walked towards her, placing my own mug on her night stand before sitting next to her on the bed, “Isabella Allen.” Still nothing, she just curled in on herself more. We hadn’t even been up that late last night. 3 o’clock at the latest when she’d fallen asleep mid episode of her stupid show. Resorting to desperate measures I pressed my lips close to her ear and whispered, “Isa, why are you naked?”

That certainly woke her up, and she bolted up hugging the sheet to her chest, “I’m naked?” She asked eye sleepy and looking adorably confused, “Are you naked? What happened?” She babbled before she realised that she was actually still in her sleep clothes under the sheets and I was fully dressed for the day, “Adrian that’s not funny.” She glared. It was not effective. She looked as threatening as a two year old. Or Jessie my niece. 

“Sorry babe but I had to wake you up somehow,” I shrugged, not bothering to hide my laughter. I wasn’t really sorry at all. I would have to remember how well that worked for any practical joke in the future, “I was running out of options.”

“Why.” She grumbled.

I grabbed my coffee and stepped safely out of the way before delivering the news “It’s 9 o’clock. We have to be in at work in half an hour at the latest.” 

“What.” She shrieked looking more awake now, “But it’s so late?” He eyes widened comically, though at risk of my life I didn’t laugh, “I never sleep so late. This is your fault.” She narrowed her eyes at me.

“This is not my fault. I’ve been trying to wake you up for half an hour.” Well I tried to wake her up once half an hour ago but that’s no big deal.

“We’re going to be late. We can’t be late.” She scrambled out of bed, “Daisy James is such a big client and we’re going to ruin everything.”

“Relax darling.” I refrained from rolling my eyes. Barely, “There’s coffee on your night stand, a change of clothes sitting on your dresser, you’re so gorgeous you don’t even need to worry about make up and we’ll grab something to eat before hailing a cab.” I crossed my arms over my chest trying not to look smug. Actually no, who cared if I looked smug, “Problem solved.”

“Thank you.” She calmed down, managing to actually stand up this time.

“It’s what I’m here for.” I winked at her cheekily as she headed towards me. 

“You are actually a life saver.” She kissed me on the cheek, eyes still soft from sleep which they would be before she got coffee.

Of course there was a very real chance she’d kill me later, when she realised exactly how short the skirt was, but by then we’d be to late to take it. And it was a risk I was willing to take. The girl may be my best friend but she had damn nice legs, and there was no sin in looking.


[Feedback on Adrian's voice would be much appreciated. Even if it's just to tell me to never try writing a guys POV ever again]
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