(Untitled)

[abotticellilady]

Bianca has, over the centuries, gotten to know her body very well. The curves of her breats and hips and stomach, the texture of her skin and the way her nearly curly hair falls. As a courtesan, a beautiful girl and then woman amongst many, it was a matter of income and survival. Later, as a vampire, it was about vanity and curiosity on how her

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[prince_arithon]

Arithon enters, hears the Italian, and gets a worried look,

"Chiavalden?"

[abotticellilady]

"It would be logical, no, if I were to lose weight? I haven't been eating properly, and yet my jeans do not fit."

[prince_arithon]

"I..."

He blinks at her, and shrugs helplessly,

"It depends what you eat? Perhaps?"

[abotticellilady]

"And what I have been eating? Plain things, simple - when I can remember! I normally don't have three meals a day, Arithon."

[prince_arithon]

Part of him wonders if he can get out of the room before she kills him. The other part is desperately trying to figure out what to do.

"I...am sorry?"

[abotticellilady]

"It's not your fault!" Bianca snaps, and then shuts her eyes. "Doesn't make any sense."

[prince_arithon]

"I..."

Has no idea. He's not a woman. He's never worried about gaining weight. He's looking at her stomach because its pretty, damnit.

[abotticellilady]

She puts her hands on her hips and eyes him.

"It's not logical."

[prince_arithon]

"I love you. I do not understand why your clothing does not fit. I can buy you new?"

[abotticellilady]

That? Is so not the point!

But she bites down on her lip, and doesn't let herself give in to those words.

[prince_arithon]

Arithon desperately wants a drink.

Some of Mel's brandy, for instance.

Instead he just...waits. Helplessly.

[abotticellilady]

Bianca is back to face the mirror, her long-fingered hand running over the smooth skin of her stomach, as if searching for...

Something.

That makes...

sense.

And it does, oh how it does so she turns white (as she can).

[prince_arithon]

"Bianca?"

He moves forward a step, then stops, then jerks back into motion,

"Chiavalden?"

[abotticellilady]

"Um. I...I think I need to sit." She whispers, doing just that. Sitting quickly and sharply in her warm bedroom in Australia. So near Queensland and the tropics that her fingers shouldn't be shaking.

[prince_arithon]

He blinks, then settles next to her and tentatively puts an arm around her.

[abotticellilady]

"The, uh, Mistwraith...responds to threats and potential threats, yes?"