[ambrose doesn't recognize the cigarettes by brand or its particularities, but he knows it by the acrid bite, and it makes him wonder, a little. she's a woman of breeding, he knows. and ill repute tends to follow those who must both manage such expectations, and also -- appetites, as such. cigarettes.
she would have made an excellent witch of greendale. or even the london that he knew.]
no subject
she would have made an excellent witch of greendale. or even the london that he knew.]
I was thinking more of a study group.
[he has a hand on the doorframe. there's an illusion of casual relaxation in his demeanor, his weight leaning on one leg, the grin on his face. he looks far younger than he is, and while that is hardly a novelty in this particular household, he certainly wears it differently than dorian does.] Qu'as-tu pensé? Bise or bisou? [he looks very intellectual in his curiosity, despite that he's still near enough he can feel the warmth of her breath on his cheek like captive sunshine.]