#xaviierr

       he’s learned by now to keep the window unlocked for her. keys are just too easily lost, and front doors are overrated. she slides it open gracefully, steps right inside - then beelines for the couch and flops ( much less gracefully ) facedown. ‘ failed another test today, ’ she grumbles, not bothering to even greet xavier.

          last time she wore a dress, she was ten and it was to her uncle’s funeral. it feels weird, foreign - but not completely uncomfortable. anna helped her with her makeup, so instead of the usual imperfect mess of black circling her eyes like bruises, she actually looks.... good, she thinks. she stares into the mirror for a little too long - studying the way her hair curls over her shoulders & flows down her back, the way the dress clings to her curves and has a slit that shows off an almost scandalous amount of leg but still perfectly hides the knife & handgun strapped to her thighs. the shoes are the only part she’s worried about. she’s not teetering, she knows how to walk in heels, but when push comes to shove it’s more than likely she’ll have to yank them off of she’s planning to go anywhere in a hurry. one last blink - do fake eyelashes always feel this heavy ? - at her reflection and she steps out of the bathroom. green eyes land on x, red-painted lips pursing just slightly. he looks nice, harper thinks - but she doesn’t say anything. it’s not something he needs to hear - or wants, she’s sure. she brushes off her dress, the ring on her left hand feeling like it weighs about a million pounds. ‘ .... you about ready to go ? ’