Oct 27, 2019
. : † O P E N [ mutuals & non ]
It’s quite late for any visitors—not that she’d have any in the first place; she doesn’t have many friends, for she’s quite good at isolating herself. A glance at the kitchen clock further contributes to her annoyance. Two in the morning. Who on earth would wake her up now?
Wrong apartment, she figures. Zelda drapes herself in the first robe she can find, before gracing the other with a yawn and furrowed brows—though whether they were furrowed in annoyance or in concern was unclear.
“Por Dios, do you know how late it is?”
