(Untitled)

[shelley_winters]

It's raining.

Although that really doesn't do it justice, Shelley thinks wildly, running through the downpour, already soaking wet, and shivering in the wind. It had been warm this morning.

Bloody England.

She drops her keys twice as she fumbles to open the door before splashing inside, socks squishing in her shoes.

This is not a happy Shelley

Comments

[always_a_liar]

Sitting curled on the couch, Elan was calmly reading. He wore a perhaps overly snug fitting and garishly red shirt. He did not necessarily understand the humor involved, but it was what happened when one bought one's shirts off of the bin of surplus sold at a loss. He commented calmly to her.

"You look very cold. A hot bath has been drawn if you would like the use of it."

He knew that Shelley walked home and seeing the weather had drawn a hot bath for her use once she returned. Every little thing that he could perform would help.

[shelley_winters]

Shelley drops her bag and shivers deliberately, sending tiny droplets of water flying.

"...Okay."

She's chilly and very uncomfortably wet, and can't work up the urge to argue with a hot bath. She takes a step towards the stairs, pauses, removes her shoes, and continues damply on her way.

[always_a_liar]

Glancing over to her, Elan spoke in an off-handed manner, turning the page in his book. Normally, he would be interested in watching her bathe, but without his powers that was impractical.

"Hopefully, it is scented to your liking."

[shelley_winters]

"Don'care," is the only reply as Shelley trails up the stairs, leaving slightly damp footprints behind her.

Warm. And dry towels after. Yes.