Fifth Floor Common Room, Sunday Morning

[doesnotkneel]

Waking up to a blaze of candles upon his head had been... worrisome was the correct term, Edward supposed. But neither his pillow nor his linens had gotten scorched, and when he pulled his shirt on, it had simply seemed to pass right through the flames. This, then, was simply another fit of the island to cope with or to tolerate

Comments

[wildandbrave]

Someone with more of an inclination toward lengthy narrative prose could have gone about how Cosette looked like some kind of church painting with the candles on her head. But in this case it would have been somewhat exaggerated anyway, especially since the puffy winter coat and the bag of groceries in her arms would cancel out the effect, and to be realistic it was just a touch silly-looking.

"Don't you look quite festive," she said with a laugh, and set the bag down on the counter so she could pull her phone out. "I shouldn't mind recording that image for posterity."

[doesnotkneel]

"I feel more like a tavern fire waiting to happen," Edward admitted, poking gently at the construction atop his head.

[wildandbrave]

"Well, it hasn't happened yet, has it? I thought at first my hair was certain to catch on fire, if the wind should pick up," Cosette said, patting her own candle wreath lightly. "Luckily the island seems to have thought of that."

She glanced toward the TV while she pulled things out of the shopping bag. "Oh, is there anything interesting on? I've eggs and bacon here, if you'd care for some to go with your cereal -- once they're cooked, of course."

[doesnotkneel]

"Just some piece on sailing vessels of the 19th century," Edward said, "At least, that's how it appears to me."

His attention was drawn now from his cereal to her, however. "And I wouldn't turn down your eggs and bacon for the world, Cosette."