PRESENTES.
It’s midnight, and Melisande is rouging her face.
Most normal people are asleep at this hour, but Melisande is very much awake and even more alive than usual, her eyes glittering as they reflect back the light of the guttering candle, blown by the wind from the slightly open window. Her mouth open a little to make her already apparent cheekbones even more defined, she lightly brushes some of the light peach powder onto her face, delicately smoothing it on and into her skin with a finger. She sets down that pot and picks up the next, paired with a different brush, and delicately paints bright red coloring onto her lips, then pencil to emphasize the arch of her eyebrows, all delicately applied so that, when she is finished, the effect is at once one of dramatic altering of her features and also strangely natural. Her smile, however, as she examines herself in the mirror, is completely genuine.
“That will do,” she informs her reflection in her low, husky voice. “That will do very nicely.” She laughs, softly, sits down before the mirror again, tosses her hair back, picks up a brush, and begins to count the strokes and the seconds, her thoughts wandering.
One. How long will it take Hedda to come here? Two. Will she come at all, or has Melisande misgauged her…misunderstood her? Three. Nonsense. Foolish worries. And ill confidence doesn’t bode well for an encounter that will no doubt require all of her confidence and dexterity…in some ways, Hedda is very like herself. Four. Ah, but there is the problem. Is she too much like herself? Hedda intrigues Melisande for the very same reasons that seducing her may not be wise. Five. Her agile mind… her dry humour… the aura of danger that hovers intriguingly around her. Six. She hopes, one of these days, to learn how to use those guns…they sound like a marvelous weapon indeed. Seven. Not, of course, that that’s the only reason for considering this…far from it. Eight. There are many…not least of which, the danger that this place presents, only not realized. Her fingers brush the barely there scars on her neck, a reminder and a warning. Nine. Marvellous weapons…not unlike beauty, and knowing how and when and where to use it, and upon whom. Ten…
Melisande stops abruptly, her head swiveling around and all thoughts vanishing as she strains her ears to hear the sound she thought she heard, and there it was, the soft brush of footsteps on carpet. She sets down the brush and puts up her hair in a loose, messy bun, one that could easily be pulled out, and goes over to the window to look out at the grounds so she wasn’t looking directly at Hedda when the other woman entered. It would not do to have the other woman see the eager excitement in her eyes. It seems like a short eternity before the brisk, crisp knock came on the door.
“Come in.”
The door opens with a soft creak and closes without a sound. Melisande stands slowly, composing her face as she turns around to face her visitor.
“What delayed you?” She murmurs softly, and only a very careful watcher would see the satisfaction in her eyes.
Happy holidays! I hope you like.
Most normal people are asleep at this hour, but Melisande is very much awake and even more alive than usual, her eyes glittering as they reflect back the light of the guttering candle, blown by the wind from the slightly open window. Her mouth open a little to make her already apparent cheekbones even more defined, she lightly brushes some of the light peach powder onto her face, delicately smoothing it on and into her skin with a finger. She sets down that pot and picks up the next, paired with a different brush, and delicately paints bright red coloring onto her lips, then pencil to emphasize the arch of her eyebrows, all delicately applied so that, when she is finished, the effect is at once one of dramatic altering of her features and also strangely natural. Her smile, however, as she examines herself in the mirror, is completely genuine.
“That will do,” she informs her reflection in her low, husky voice. “That will do very nicely.” She laughs, softly, sits down before the mirror again, tosses her hair back, picks up a brush, and begins to count the strokes and the seconds, her thoughts wandering.
One. How long will it take Hedda to come here? Two. Will she come at all, or has Melisande misgauged her…misunderstood her? Three. Nonsense. Foolish worries. And ill confidence doesn’t bode well for an encounter that will no doubt require all of her confidence and dexterity…in some ways, Hedda is very like herself. Four. Ah, but there is the problem. Is she too much like herself? Hedda intrigues Melisande for the very same reasons that seducing her may not be wise. Five. Her agile mind… her dry humour… the aura of danger that hovers intriguingly around her. Six. She hopes, one of these days, to learn how to use those guns…they sound like a marvelous weapon indeed. Seven. Not, of course, that that’s the only reason for considering this…far from it. Eight. There are many…not least of which, the danger that this place presents, only not realized. Her fingers brush the barely there scars on her neck, a reminder and a warning. Nine. Marvellous weapons…not unlike beauty, and knowing how and when and where to use it, and upon whom. Ten…
Melisande stops abruptly, her head swiveling around and all thoughts vanishing as she strains her ears to hear the sound she thought she heard, and there it was, the soft brush of footsteps on carpet. She sets down the brush and puts up her hair in a loose, messy bun, one that could easily be pulled out, and goes over to the window to look out at the grounds so she wasn’t looking directly at Hedda when the other woman entered. It would not do to have the other woman see the eager excitement in her eyes. It seems like a short eternity before the brisk, crisp knock came on the door.
“Come in.”
The door opens with a soft creak and closes without a sound. Melisande stands slowly, composing her face as she turns around to face her visitor.
“What delayed you?” She murmurs softly, and only a very careful watcher would see the satisfaction in her eyes.
Happy holidays! I hope you like.