D is for Drafty
Valkyrie sniffled, sneezed, and squeezed her tired eyes shut, rolling away from the bright window and curling up tighter in her blankets. She was 18. Wasn't she supposed to be getting a job or something instead of lying in bed with a cold? It probably didn't help that Gordon had let his house go a little (since he was dead, maybe Stephanie should have paid closer attention...) and now she was freezing cold and tired and perhaps a little sad. Stupid Gordon. Stupid snow. Stupid Skeleton knocking on the door she had to get fixed because of him. If he broke it down...
"Valkyrie, you home?" Maybe he didn't need to break it down. Was there a window she should lock? Maybe that was why it was so cold...
\Valkyrie hid under her blankets when she heard someone coming up the mansion stairs, and stayed very still when someone opened the door- maybe he wouldn't see her?
"Your hiding skills need some work." He informed her cheerfully as he sat on the edge of her bed, "and your house-keeping skills could be improved on- You look ghastly!"
Valkyrie glared at him and disappeared again under the covers.
"No, really. You do. I'm beginning to re-think my choice of bringing you out today."
"...What?"
Drafty |ˈdraftē|
Adjective ( draftier , draftiest )
(of an enclosed space) Cold and uncomfortable because of currents of cool air :anyone would get pneumonia living in the drafty old house.
A/N: This one is a bit long, but, uh... Yeah. Hope I didn't demolish Skulduggery's character, I'm HORRIBLE at him and my friend kidnapped my book so I have no reference... :P