* MONA LISA SMILE !

Nobody ever told me London was going to be this beautiful. And I’m not just talking about the city sights. I feel so blessed.

at the other’s tone, afrodita lightened up, a stifled chuckle coming from her. not much made her uncomfortable but askign strangers for a threesome, while sober, definitely did the trick. “two drinks? mate, you’re a lightweight!”

Shaking her head in amusement, a small grin broke the usually stoic look that typically adorned Cat’s face. Most nights when she ventured out there, she enjoyed the alone time, though she couldn’t say she minded her present company. This woman seemed tasteful, or her humour veered towards Cat’s tastes, at least. “Careful, I’ve heard there’s no warranty on those things.” She jested lightly in return. “Noted, but who says I don’t?” Regardless, she leisurely moved closer to the brunette, taking her up on the unspoken invitation. 

“do you hate it?” she asked the other person in the room as she balanced on one foot to reach what she was fixing–a hanging flower pot in the kitchen that had seemed in desperate need of some attention.  so she gave it just what it needed.  a little love, and a bit of a fix up with some fresh flowers from her shop.  “the flower in here before was dying and i figured it would be a shame to leave it be.  so i went to my shop and grabbed a new plant.”  she explained, balancing herself on the chair and turning to face whomever was in the room.  “i’m a big believer that flowers brighten up a space.  and a dying one was only going to dim the mood.”  cassie explained with a shrug of her shoulders.  she bit her lip and turned back to look at the flower and fixed it to make it even in it’s place.  

“soz, mate. as i said, that’s not usually how i approach uh, this sort of thing. especially not with women. s’its this dumb dare thing that i, foolishly, agreed to.”

Slouching back on the couch, Rose stared blankly at the phone in her hand, the device having died a few minutes ago. A glass of wine sat on the table in front of her, and a half empty bottle of rum - not her usual go-to of choice - rested by her feet. Hearing someone enter the room, she voiced her thoughts without bothering to look up. “Do you ever miss having actual buttons on these things?” 

IKAG GOSSIP SENT A  D A R E : Ask the next five people you see for a threesome, the blunter the better.

“Listen, I usually don’t go around askin’ folks to fuck but uh, you tryna have a threesome or somethin’?”

Smoking was a terrible habit, a fact Cat was well aware of, but it did little to quell the addiction, even if it was a casual one. Ever considerate of her housemates, when the desire to have one hit her, she made her way outside, her feet taking her to the pool area. Not expecting anyone else to be there, the Irishwoman was thankful she wasn’t a jumpy person and therefore the open bottle of beer she held in her hand remained safe. Eyebrows arching in amusement at the woman’s actions, Cat stayed a relatively safe distance away - still being considerate as she pulled a cigarette from the pack in her pocket, lighter being fished out next. “Sorry, I’ll knock next time.” She quipped dryly, now lit smoke between her lips as she put the lighter back. 

a hand on her heart, sofia devolved into a laugh -- her own idiocy never surprising her. she wasn’t sure why she hadn’t expected to be disturbed, in a house full of women, but there she was: jumping at shadows. or rather, pretty strangers.  “ my fault, really. i’ve gotta install a doorbell on this thing. ”  she teased, tapping her own head. spotting the cigarette, sofia went unperturbed. she smoked as well, although more socially, than habitually.  “ ... i don’t bite, y’know. ”  sofia pointing out, referencing the distance between them -- and invitation for the woman to join her, if she wanted to.

               THE BOOK, THE WRITTEN WORD, immortalised in ink, an author’s sacred notions, spilt from their mind and captured on paper for the word, laid bare for prying eyes, was retained against her ribcage, almost as a child would clutch a blanket for security in foreign circumstances, as she studied the woman’s features, soft and tender, porcelain countenance framed by honeyed locks, like a work of art, perhaps a Vermeer, he worked with flesh-toned paints that emanated a warmth, a radiance to it and this woman was… stunning. Eyes flickered, like a reducing candle in the window on a wintry night, guiding to external surroundings, the freshness of the water, the brisk mistals of an England evening, as she attempted to focus on something, anything, other than her companion; her mother always said she possessed a knack of staring and then she claimed some would not take kindly to such a blatant gesture. “Well, you know, the government is always doing it’s best,” she quipped, eyes rolling to the sky and back in an impish manner. “Just a lucky guess?” She responded, lips pursed as she contemplated whether or not she should accept the woman’s invitation, but her anxiety guided her actions as she resolved to slip into the seat across, not wanting to seem rude, a smile curving the corners of her lips upwards. She wasn’t used to physical contact. “Oh well, pardon me, it is two thousand and nineteen, wouldn’t want to label you the wrong thing. Tell me, is this your siren call when you’re on land? A bottle of merlot and a cosy setting?” She enquired, a slight chuckle escaping her parted lips as she grasped the bottle with her free hand, her book situated by her side as she took a small swig, the bitterness of the beverage settling on her tongue. “Thank you,” she uttered, handing the bottle back as she hitched a leg over the other. Judging from her companion’s accent, or rather, lack thereof, her articulation — a distinct American, perhaps the southern region instead of any form of British dialect, Samson would hypothesis that she did not originate from the United Kingdom, meaning she was not accustomed to the gelid conditions, the frequent outbursts of rain and the low temperatures London had to offer. “Then you’ve moved to the wrong place, London, even in the summer doesn’t get to about twenty-three,” she said, of course, her measurements were in Celsius. “But I’m certain you’ll find someone to keep you warm. If not, you can always go back to the sea, I heard the Maldives are lovely.” 

Ellie had barely gotten a moment to speak to her new roommate, and once she came over she started to feel…well, silly. Lowering the wooden instrument, she decided to hold it close to her chest instead, following behind the younger woman in silence. She poked her head in the doorway, looking for the thing she saw out of the corner of her eye…Then she spotted the spider. Backing up quickly, she shook her head. “Cute?” Ellie looked at the girl in shock. “How is it cute? It bites people.” Pressing her lips together, because christ she did not need to make herself look even more stupid, she went into the living room and grabbed an empty cup and a piece of paper that was lying around. She decided when she went back in there she was going to try and lighten the mood too. “If he likes the ladies, then I suppose we have something in common with a spider. Maybe he wants to sponsor us?” she joked, a bit unsure about her delivery.

a giggled tumbled from sofia’s lips, as the blonde recoiled in disgust. it always seemed silly to her, how people worried about such little, tiny, squirmy things. then again, sofia couldn’t really talk. she had an (arguably) irrational fear of birds. but she wasn’t about to admit that, obviously. that wouldn’t exactly prove her point.  “ he’s not the only one. ”  sofia teased coyly -- certainly not turning down the opportunity to make that joke. hand outstretched, she made a request of the woman:  “ cup. ”  taking the cup and paper from her hands, the brunette got down on her knees and closed in on the thing; carefully scooping it up in one swift motion.  “ i’ve seen shittier mascots. ”  she agreed with a grin, straightening up again and heading back out of the bathroom.  “ come on, let’s liberate him. ”  sofia said decisively, leading her way around the corner to yank open the back door. immediately hit with a gust of cold air, she flinched; laughing at her own discomforting.  “ fucking hell, alright, good luck. ” she wished the little spider, before lobbing it gently back outside -- quickly shutting the door behind her with a huff. sofia held her hands up, a call for praise.  “ look at that, saved your life. where’s my three pound, huh? ”  she teased, obviously kidding.

              THE FRIGID FEBRUARY STREETS, BRIMMING with paper hearts, an alloy of pinks and reds, and other various embellishments in preparation for the impending holiday adorned establishments that Samson passed as she trekked home, or to the mansion, she was careful not to confuse, cheeks reddened and lips chapped from the eastern winds that cascaded from the North Sea, lithe fingertips gathering the thick material of her jacket closer as she huddled against herself for any source of warmth. She detested the holiday constructed by Hallmark, but she was certain the producers of the show had something scheme in the works, perhaps playing Cupid? Upon arrival, the woman shut the door, the metal from her keys chattering as she wandered inside, her features levelling as the heat that encompassed the vast interior welcomed her. Footsteps carried her directly to her room, Samson organized her textbooks on her desk before picking up a The Tenant of Windfell Hall by Anne Brontë; one of her favourites, as she resolved studies, could wait, besides, she spent a few hours looming in the library, accomplishing all assigned reading, so she would take some time for herself, something she was horrific at being tasked with, the word “relax” neglecting from her vocabulary. Resounding moans, a manifestation of passion, came from within the library, a blush flourishing across the woman’s tanned complexion as she scurried off to the pool area, deciding she would get some reading done there. “Don’t worry, I think a man was attempting to steal as many rice cakes as he could fit in his pocket, so you’re good. They’ll give the hardened criminals, such as yourself, a break,” she deadpanned. “So, you’re not in the water… and here I thought we had a resident mermaid? Or perhaps tonight, you have your land legs?” 

a warm laugh fell from sofia’s lips.  “ oh, good - to think i had lost faith in the legal system. ”  she teased easily, slipping back into her comfort again, post scare. relieved the woman hadn’t taken the time to make fun of her rather pathetic yelp, sofia scooted aside a little on the sofa she was curled up on --- an invitation, if the brunette chose to take it. she smiled, at the mermaid comment.  “ oh, how’d you know? ” she hummed, arching a coy brow. wrapping herself up more tightly with the blanket, sofia let a shrug roll off her shoulders.  “ i’m more of a summer baby. ”  she admitted, glancing back to the no doubt freezing pool apprehensively. then, added in jest:  “ also? we tend to prefer sirens. ”  another laugh slipped from her lips to fill the silence around them, amused by her own seriousness. mermaids were serious business, after all.  “ want a drink? ”  sofia offered, bottle of wine outstretched.  “ i promise it’s not salt water. ”