Maybe it was the way she held herself, maybe it was the way she looked in that particlar moment, but there was something about Saffron that reminded Gatsby - in more ways than one - of Daisy Buchanan.
As such, in was with a sort of half-startled smile that Gatsby made his way across the lawn, hands tucked in the pockets of cream-colored slacks, the sleeves of his white button-down shirt rolled up to his elbows.
It doesn't take her much time to answer - reaching up with one hand to pull her sunglasses away from her eyes and slightly down her nose as she studies him.
It takes a little shifting before she clasps his hand, moving the sunscreen bottle over to her other side first.
"Saffron," she replies. Of course, there's a good chance it's not her real name, but even if she did remember her real name, she wouldn't use it. Force of habit.
Comments 26
As such, in was with a sort of half-startled smile that Gatsby made his way across the lawn, hands tucked in the pockets of cream-colored slacks, the sleeves of his white button-down shirt rolled up to his elbows.
"Mind if I join you?"
Reply
The sunglasses go back up.
"Not at all."
Reply
Gatsby offered her his other hand, smiling quickly.
"How d'you do -- I'm Gatsby. Jay Gatsby."
Reply
"Saffron," she replies. Of course, there's a good chance it's not her real name, but even if she did remember her real name, she wouldn't use it. Force of habit.
"It's a pleasure, Mr. Gatsby."
Reply
Leave a comment