[ Brightening at the suggestion, she crawls over not unlike a cat on the hunt. ]
What's better is that you'll have access to it any time you'd like, at my vanity. You won't have the chance to forget.
[ Settling down next to William with her legs curled beside her, she holds out the letter for him to take. Anticipating his reaction, her gaze flickers over his face, to the way he holds the letter, and back again, teeth pressed into her lip just so.
The sonnet she's written for him uses language reminiscent of her most idolised writer, unsurprisingly - and though she wouldn't consider herself to harbour even an ounce of the talent he had, as a mere actress, the imagery she invokes certainly isn't bad. She writes of the turning of seasons, the passing of years, and how hope exists in seeing them through by his side; that, without him, time would stand still and her world would shrivel and die, more or less! In perfectly flowery, romantic words, of course. ]
no subject
What's better is that you'll have access to it any time you'd like, at my vanity. You won't have the chance to forget.
[ Settling down next to William with her legs curled beside her, she holds out the letter for him to take. Anticipating his reaction, her gaze flickers over his face, to the way he holds the letter, and back again, teeth pressed into her lip just so.
The sonnet she's written for him uses language reminiscent of her most idolised writer, unsurprisingly - and though she wouldn't consider herself to harbour even an ounce of the talent he had, as a mere actress, the imagery she invokes certainly isn't bad. She writes of the turning of seasons, the passing of years, and how hope exists in seeing them through by his side; that, without him, time would stand still and her world would shrivel and die, more or less! In perfectly flowery, romantic words, of course. ]