[ A perfect, rare day that Dark is not dressed like a heavy metal slut and has enough clothing to cry on. His cloak and shirt bundle loosely in Lottie's grasp, thin and breathable fabric a pleasant surprise to the amount that's draped over his shoulders. An intrusive thought wonders if she'll get her snot on him, but he accepts it for what it isβ an inevitable necessity to staying likable. He pulls her towards his chest since that's where she'd sort of drifted anyway, letting her hide her face in it instead of face him directly.
Dark wads the dirtied tissue from before into a ball, lazily setting it aside before he strokes Lottie's hair, combing gently over her roots. ]
There, there...
[ He does the motion over and over like a character from a Sims 4 savefile, unsure of when to stop looping until he gets the desired outcome of calming her down. Should he ask her to be more specific? Will it just add salt to the wound? ]
We can still get repairs. Or just build a new one.
[ Context clues come in handy. Dark seems to piece the puzzle together as he eyes the boutique, where the interior has been broken or otherwise destroyed. Hard to tell whether it's by the foliage outside or by people, though... ]
no subject
Dark wads the dirtied tissue from before into a ball, lazily setting it aside before he strokes Lottie's hair, combing gently over her roots. ]
There, there...
[ He does the motion over and over like a character from a Sims 4 savefile, unsure of when to stop looping until he gets the desired outcome of calming her down. Should he ask her to be more specific? Will it just add salt to the wound? ]
We can still get repairs. Or just build a new one.
[ Context clues come in handy. Dark seems to piece the puzzle together as he eyes the boutique, where the interior has been broken or otherwise destroyed. Hard to tell whether it's by the foliage outside or by people, though... ]