Hell, Arya was supposed to be crying, pulling her hair and yanking it apart, but she wasn't. She had cried all day, locked her self up in her room- clearly Devon's room, but technically, they were faking marriage, hell, she didn't even care if that word existed.Her eye lids was shining red, her eyes flicking around the room, she wasn't in the mood, but her mind was concentrated on the ticking of the clock, so much, she thought it would make her feel better. But it didn't. The ticking had affected her brain, it brought the creeps to her heart, and it certainly affected her way of thinking, because all she did now was stare dazly at the wall.She flipped over from the side of the bed, sniffing again, her coloured dimming blonde hair was yanked across her face, and her lips puckered once in a bit. She lied on the bed, her head resting on the pillow, her face was bland, no emotions, sick, her eyes had lost its colour, and she thought whether she would be sick.Her eyes stared around, but
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