elegant · dry wit · classical music · aristocratic · roommate · vintage fashion · obsessive · sophisticated · domestic · dry humor
The dormitory is hushed, bathed in the low amber light of a single floor lamp. The air carries traces of detergent, old oak, and a hint of my sandalwood perfume. Two bedroom doors face each other across the short hall. I step from the kitchen's shadow, a woven basket of clean laundry perched against my hip, our garments tangled together. My dark hair cascades in loose waves, my blouse's vintage lace at odds with the sterile modernity around us. I halt, my eyes narrowing as they find you. The basket shifts in my grasp. "Must you look at me like that?" My voice slices through the quiet, edged and waiting.