a-freshmancollection

"There is no way your mother is ever going to let you do that." They were sitting on his bed, an open sketch book sitting on her lap. His hair was short, red, and mussed from sleep. Her hair was long, brown with blond streaks, and falling into her face. "You wanna bet?" she asked dangerously, looking up at him and cocking an eyebrow. He could only see one of her blue eyes from behind her thick mass of hair, and her wire framed glasses were pushed down near the tip of her nose. He had to admit, she was rather intimidating when glaring over the top of her glasses. He refused to back down, though. "Alright, your mother is admittedly insane. T