After scrambling until the very last moment possible to get ready, Ella careens down the Dominant apartment hallways, looking every bit as flustered and rattled as she feels. This had been an idea borne out of hopeful fun then mired in self-doubt then put forward again as yet another olive branch of sorts. For now anyway. More than she wants to wallow in her predicament, she wants to spend time with Frannie. Fun time. A good time.
As she skids to a halt in front of the Domme's door, peonies in one hand and a dress bag draped across the other -- maybe she learned a little B&E from her roomie and slipped in during classes while Frannie was gone -- Ella takes a minute or two to straighten her suit where she can. (This includes an awkward check of the pack and play toy pressed firmly against her crotch beneath tailored slacks.) Once she thinks she's composed -- deep breaths, Hudson -- she uses her elbow to knock against the door a few times.
"Yo, girl." She blurts, a little less suave than she was going for. Her cheeks get a touch red in embarrassment as she hoists the peonies forward in Frannie's direction. She's laughing at herself a little bit as she continues. "Go to the dance with me? Please, Miss."