Westminster Estates, Dover || Susan/Inara, going to be NSFW
"Inara." Susan murmurs.
"Inara Serra."
It's a beautiful name, rolling on her tongue like the wine that's already open to breathe on the table. Susan's drink, however, is a Screwed Up Happily Ever After. She bought the ingredients to make it yesterday, so she could hold what she considers to be Inara's taste on her lips for as long as possible.
Susan's apartment is small - very small, in fact. It has three rooms, if they're counted generously. The front door opens up directly onto her bed, an large wooden wardrobe with more than fifty years behind it nestled against the wall to the left. The door to the bathroom is also on the left, regretfully not containing a bath. To the right is a small table, set with three chairs, the fourth chair removed so that the table can sit smugly against the breakfast bar that separates 'bedroom' from 'kitchen'.
Small though it may be, everything in the apartment is of exquisite quality. Possessing a particular love for antiques, Susan has trawled the city for objects of beauty. Each one functional, because the apartment isn't big enough to house much in the way of pure art, Susan doesn't keep anything around her that doesn't please the eye, the hand - or more.
There's nothing here as beautiful as Inara Serra - but it's not an unworthy setting for her, though Susan can't imagine that anywhere would ever be worthy.
"Inara Serra."
It's a beautiful name, rolling on her tongue like the wine that's already open to breathe on the table. Susan's drink, however, is a Screwed Up Happily Ever After. She bought the ingredients to make it yesterday, so she could hold what she considers to be Inara's taste on her lips for as long as possible.
Susan's apartment is small - very small, in fact. It has three rooms, if they're counted generously. The front door opens up directly onto her bed, an large wooden wardrobe with more than fifty years behind it nestled against the wall to the left. The door to the bathroom is also on the left, regretfully not containing a bath. To the right is a small table, set with three chairs, the fourth chair removed so that the table can sit smugly against the breakfast bar that separates 'bedroom' from 'kitchen'.
Small though it may be, everything in the apartment is of exquisite quality. Possessing a particular love for antiques, Susan has trawled the city for objects of beauty. Each one functional, because the apartment isn't big enough to house much in the way of pure art, Susan doesn't keep anything around her that doesn't please the eye, the hand - or more.
There's nothing here as beautiful as Inara Serra - but it's not an unworthy setting for her, though Susan can't imagine that anywhere would ever be worthy.