Tʜᴇ Dʀᴇssᴍᴀᴋᴇʀ

◆◆◇◆◆ by カカ 

William Shakespeare, King Lear, Act III Scene IV  

                                What a pleasant thing to hear that the latter was doing fine. He of course was the very opposite. "Perhaps is it not that you're not doing anything that you are so free? I however have so many up my sleeve. My back is hurting even to this point" A sigh, and he moved his hand to rub at the slight soreness in his back. Perhaps Theron could help -- if Julius were to ask. "It could never. It is as if London is gloom to be doomed to an eternal darkness. How sad" He mumbled, then another sigh. He wondered how Theron's home would be like. Hell wasn't it. Aah, such a warm place if he were to think of it. 

                             Of course they'd pass the of spending time at Julius' manor. If not Julius could still recall that hazy night; or still trying to recall of whatever had ever happened. But indeed he'd found Theron to be more than an acquaintance. "An hour would be sufficient enough. How do you do -- I excuse the weather in London. It has never been pleasant" He walked first, gesturing the other to follow by. Mary the maid would turn 68 this year if he is ever curious. 

                               "How honest -- " The statement alone did make his heart fell out of his rhythm, but he managed to pull a calm facade though face was hinting the color red just a slight. "Aah, then you should -- perhaps come over. It is the appropriate time for tea at home too. Mary do make the best scones." Worry not, Mary was only another maid for the manor. 

                            "Shall we -- chat over a few cups of tea and scones. Or would you prefer staring at my face for hours?" 

kippenmooord /prolly.. maybe/ zzz snores

frick frack tho who allow the list to en-lengthen itself? 

       Had he had any thoughts then it would be brushed aside, he kept his hand grasping her hair then boldly moved to brush the few strands that had fell onto her face. "Your mother must've been a beautiful lady. If not, how would a beautiful maiden like yourself be born?" He scoffed a laugh, then threading his fingers down the length of smooth hair. "Your hair -- it is very lovely. I like it" .... "I like it very much"