❃
send one for my muse’s reaction to your muse --- // accepting❃ = dancing with them .
She’s already running LATE -- the doctor scrambling about the upper floorof her penthouse in a mad dash to get ready and get to work before Tonynotices her ABSENCE. Mahogany locks are secured in a tousled chignon,still smelling of honeysuckle shampoo, and her slender form is moving asquickly as it can whilst confined in a PENCIL SKIRT and watery silk blouse.
Music wafts up from the lower floor -- classic. Tchaikovsky, she believes,now scrambling downstairs and into the kitchen. Her EX BOYFRIEND --was it still ex? She isn’t sure ; a conversation for another day, in the midstof preparing something she can’t make out. Juliette moves to dart past himand grab a greek yogurt before SPRINTING the six blocks it’ll take to getto the tower --- only to find her wrist caught in his grasp. A tug, and she’sTWIRLING directly into his embrace, accompanied by a grin and a groan.
❛ — you’ve made me late enough as it is, Mr. DeBois. ❜
The doctor points out, ATTEMPTING to slip from his grasp -- a useless endeavor, she knows. Despite her statement, Jules quickly finds herselfcaught in a series of SPINS and DIPS around the vast area of her kitchen,and within moments, she’s seemingly forgotten she has anywhere to be.
❛ Maybe I could call in sick ... ❜
