[ A small laugh, dry but there. At least her sense of humor made it through the storm. ]
Should I be insulted you think I would take advantage of your kindness?
[ She gives a last look back through the paneled window, then to her drenched gown, worried both for his flooring and that of one of her only gowns. There aren’t many options for a girl from the Jane Austen era around these parts; she’s had to do a lot of improvising and working on fashioning her own dresses.
The little house is sparse in decoration and furniture — she notices that on the climb up, but it comes into sharper relief once she’s in the bedroom. There’s little more than the bed and dresser.
The emptiness occupies her thoughts as she removes all the layers she took care in putting on that morning, all the way out of her chemise, and then wrings out as much moisture from her gown in the adjoining washroom. The mirror reflects a pale, disheveled girl, almost unrecognizable in the dark t-shirt she quickly picked out of his possessions. The smell of soap is there, but so is something musky, masculine.
Her hair unsalvageable, she unbinds it, shaking it out, before climbing down, her feet and quite a bit of her legs bare. ]
no subject
Should I be insulted you think I would take advantage of your kindness?
[ She gives a last look back through the paneled window, then to her drenched gown, worried both for his flooring and that of one of her only gowns. There aren’t many options for a girl from the Jane Austen era around these parts; she’s had to do a lot of improvising and working on fashioning her own dresses.
The little house is sparse in decoration and furniture — she notices that on the climb up, but it comes into sharper relief once she’s in the bedroom. There’s little more than the bed and dresser.
The emptiness occupies her thoughts as she removes all the layers she took care in putting on that morning, all the way out of her chemise, and then wrings out as much moisture from her gown in the adjoining washroom. The mirror reflects a pale, disheveled girl, almost unrecognizable in the dark t-shirt she quickly picked out of his possessions. The smell of soap is there, but so is something musky, masculine.
Her hair unsalvageable, she unbinds it, shaking it out, before climbing down, her feet and quite a bit of her legs bare. ]