so this is awkward.
Maladicta had done a good job of going through the day as though nothing were utterly perplexing or out of the ordinary, except there was the tiny baby hiccup in the plan which was: William Shakespeare had kissed her, entirely randomly and for the space of a moment and then acted as though it hadn't occurred, which was actually fine with her, because she would have had difficulty bringing herself to maim him, as she rather quite like him.
Just... not like that.
She huffed quietly over her thermos, sitting on the front porch of her and William's hut, wearing small cotton shorts and one of William's t-shirts and enjoying the way the breeze moved her ponytail.
Which kept getting longer. She idly considered cutting it, but opted not to. She sipped her coffee.
Just... not like that.
She huffed quietly over her thermos, sitting on the front porch of her and William's hut, wearing small cotton shorts and one of William's t-shirts and enjoying the way the breeze moved her ponytail.
Which kept getting longer. She idly considered cutting it, but opted not to. She sipped her coffee.