#roswin

{ ROSWIN AU: The Lady & The Seamstress }

Often she finds herself thinking of the seamstress’s hands. 

Of the delicate way they thread a needle, and yet, how strong and capable they feel when she spins Clara this way and that, fitting her for a new gown. When she closes her eyes, she can replicate it almost exactly: Miss Tyler kneeling before her, eyes too clever and knowing, pins tucked between her enigmatic lips. Her touch is firm—a hand on Clara's hip when she wishes for a change in angle.

No one touches her like that. Like they have a right to.

Oh, people bow before her all the time, in deference to her station, and many do go to their knees. But somehow, she cannot picture the seamstress as a supplicant.

She is, Clara feels, something else entirely.

When she has finished her work and must leave once again, Miss Tyler brushes their fingers together, as she always does. Their secret, silent parting.