@aspirinqs asked: "i do so admire your style." said one sapphic to the next, operating on age-old, intricate rituals.
‘ oh! and how. ’
she mightn’t normally allow herself to be accused of tittering, but, well. her furtive gaze falls somewhat left of diane’s own; instead, flickering somewhere between her corn silk hair and the blended rouge on her cheek. (set a girl down in front of a singular, feminine force and watch her lose every ounce of society grace.) the air tracy affects feels clumsy to her own critical eye, but poised enough, she hopes, to fool any hard glance. ‘ you’ve stolen the words from my very mouth. ’ to the barest degree, she leans in further. ‘ you must tell me who fashioned your blouse, how it fits so keenly. you simply must. ’
