(Untitled)

[almost_arabian]

Lawrence is currently sitting at a chair somewhat near the fire, thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.

There is a worn copy of Arabia Deserta by C.M. Doughty in his hands. Still his favorite of Doughty's books, he'd told him that over and over.

Do bother him - he won't mind too terribly.

Comments

[vs_nuggan]

Maybe Lawrence's ear will be distracted by the quietly crying infant, or his eye by the babe's exhausted mother rocking him to sleep by the fire.

Or maybe not.

[vs_nuggan]

Hesitantly, taking care to avoid the bruises, she takes his arm. She leans for a second, then straightens up, pulling herself together and forcing herself to run on adrenaline just a little longer.

Once at the top of the stairs she stops and turns to him.

"I will be fine from here, thank you."

[almost_arabian]

He arches a brow.

"I would much rather that I escort you to your room. But .. if you insist, I suppose."

[vs_nuggan]

"It is nothing personal. I just already had to move rooms once to stay away from Sands. I don't want him inadvertantly finding out where I've moved to. Only two people other than me know the number now."

She smiles a little. "But thank you, you are a gentleman."

[almost_arabian]

He nods, smiling in return. "If you say so, miss. Do be well - and try to get some rest."

[vs_nuggan]

She curtseys a little.

"Thank you sir."

Then heads off down the corridor.