The cold breeze hit Scarlett in the face like a bucket of ice cold water after a long, hot and sweaty day as they walked out of the elevators and stepped out unto the rooftop. And she breathed in the wintery breeze, glad to finally be out in an open space.
Three woed women, burnt by the torches of the world. Wounded tigers who were caught between seeking revenge for the wrongs done against their souls and letting things be. Three warriors in their own respective rights, fighting battles no one but them could win, torn between going down the path of vengeance and upholding peace.
Cory lit a cigarette for herself, then handed the lighter along with a piece of cigarette to Ivy who thanked her, lit her piece and returned the lighter.
