✵ ( hydramadame.
Send me ✵ to catch my muse under the mistletoe!
@hydramadame
He sighed as a long smudge marred the ink on his page. Landa was METICULOUS when it came to clerical de--tails; he leaned forward to rifle through his desk for a new sheet of paper, ignoring the word of protest from the Madame draped lazily over the back of his chair. Evi--dently she was growing tired of being IGNORED– just as he arranged the fresh paper on the desk, she slipped into his lap, effectively blocking his view.
“Reports don’t file themselves, Madame.” He didn’t so much as look at her as he set his pen to the page, ignoring her lips on his ear.
– Until SHARP TEETH on his neck sent another stray scrawl across the paper.
He sat down his pen, giving her a cold look. She wore INNOCENCE like an ermine coat, a coy pout on full lips. He didn’t notice that she was holding something in her hands until she held it up– a thin sprig of mistletoe, neatly wrapped with a red ribbon. Never once did his expression shift; but there was an unmistakable GLEAM in his eye when he looked at the mistletoe.
“Stand up and take off your underwear.”
