it's an outlandish thought. but here, where nothing seems quite so outlandish anymore — and that had been after a perpetual dream, for xipe's sake — it isn't the most irrational thought to have. still, she does feel it prickle, a little, as she steps into the room after his show of chivalry, only to find herself looking at her mirror reflection with a slight sense of embarrassment.
this outfit would not have made it past some commercial censors back at penacony. no doubt the moment her brother found out about it, the station would have been taken soundly off the air, the company closing down under mysterious circumstances.
it's a slight exaggeration. she may be catastrophizing. sometime in their rush, a rip has opened up in the stocking along one thigh which she is soundly ignoring. she doesn't know what her brother might think of her when he looks at her like this, but she doesn't need the open feedback of his emotions to recognize the intense discomfort even under the deliberate stoicism of a consummate professional, too serious, too severe. )
It's been about three days now...
( quieter, maybe, because she doesn't know.
she doesn't know anything, really, of anything with real substance. when her brother had lost his sweet tooth, or where this prim and proper man had come from, and why it still feels like there's that wall stretched up between them, and he's so close and yet so painfully far away. back on penacony, it would've made sense with what he was planning... but here? )
... Brother.
Can't you — speak to me without a disguise this time...?
no subject
it's an outlandish thought. but here, where nothing seems quite so outlandish anymore — and that had been after a perpetual dream, for xipe's sake — it isn't the most irrational thought to have. still, she does feel it prickle, a little, as she steps into the room after his show of chivalry, only to find herself looking at her mirror reflection with a slight sense of embarrassment.
this outfit would not have made it past some commercial censors back at penacony. no doubt the moment her brother found out about it, the station would have been taken soundly off the air, the company closing down under mysterious circumstances.
it's a slight exaggeration. she may be catastrophizing. sometime in their rush, a rip has opened up in the stocking along one thigh which she is soundly ignoring. she doesn't know what her brother might think of her when he looks at her like this, but she doesn't need the open feedback of his emotions to recognize the intense discomfort even under the deliberate stoicism of a consummate professional, too serious, too severe. )
It's been about three days now...
( quieter, maybe, because she doesn't know.
she doesn't know anything, really, of anything with real substance. when her brother had lost his sweet tooth, or where this prim and proper man had come from, and why it still feels like there's that wall stretched up between them, and he's so close and yet so painfully far away. back on penacony, it would've made sense with what he was planning... but here? )
... Brother.
Can't you — speak to me without a disguise this time...?