(no subject)
Follows this.
Keira sits on the end of Johnny's bed and doesn't go until she hears him step into the shower. She spares the locked door a last glance and moves quietly out of the room, down the darker hallway, and back into the warmly lit kitchen, cozy from the dying sunlight of early evening. Bill's turned on the dim lights over the bench and is picking pieces of shattered stonewear from the sink, making a careful pile of debris in his left hand.
So focused is he on the menial task that he doesn't seem to register her presence in the room when she stops just inside the doorway. She's left her heels by Johnny's bed; the ceramic tiles beneath her bare feet stay silent.
Keira tugs at the hem of her short dress suddenly wishing she'd dressed more like herself and less like a pornstar. Most of the time she likes to trash it up for press and newcomers, but it seems in poor taste for the prelude to this evening.
"Bill?"
Keira sits on the end of Johnny's bed and doesn't go until she hears him step into the shower. She spares the locked door a last glance and moves quietly out of the room, down the darker hallway, and back into the warmly lit kitchen, cozy from the dying sunlight of early evening. Bill's turned on the dim lights over the bench and is picking pieces of shattered stonewear from the sink, making a careful pile of debris in his left hand.
So focused is he on the menial task that he doesn't seem to register her presence in the room when she stops just inside the doorway. She's left her heels by Johnny's bed; the ceramic tiles beneath her bare feet stay silent.
Keira tugs at the hem of her short dress suddenly wishing she'd dressed more like herself and less like a pornstar. Most of the time she likes to trash it up for press and newcomers, but it seems in poor taste for the prelude to this evening.
"Bill?"