Lotte clearly didn't know what he'd do, even though she had a better handle on him than she had before. It was clear that she couldn't be complacent... he'd come swinging out of left field even drunk and half incapacitated as he was currently. It wasn't all bad, though, she supposed. Not when he looked at her like that.
She quickly and ruthlessly pushed down the odd sensation that was something like satisfaction, at seeing him so pleased even at her own expense and stood up as he took off his glasses and folded them on the bed. She'd half expected him to forget and that she'd have to take them off for him. Her fingertips tingled with that stolen opportunity and that, too, was something she brushed away.
Alastor wasn't hers to touch as she liked, she reminded herself. He'd offered once, to be a man to her, if she wanted it. But still that was something she wanted no part in, if brokered along with some deal. Whatever he had to offer her in that respect... well, she'd earn it fair and square or not at all.
"No, I don't... but that's the fun of it." She murmured as she went over to the stove, pushing her fingers down through the air, the flames lowering at her behest. The cabin would keep warm, but it was darker, easier to sleep.
"You just get whatever sleep you can, then." The glasses and bottle of whiskey were scooped up and set on the table, and then Lotte sat, unlacing each of her boots and setting them beneath the chair. It'd allow her to traverse the cabin floors without making as much noise, because by god, if she'd finally gotten him to sleep he was going to stay that way.
Lotte didn't do much, for the next little while. Wandered into the little alcove that served as a washroom for her, brushed her hair out and ran some water through it to reset her curls after all the scuffling. She took a wet rag and some soap to her skin to clean the dirt and dust off, brushed her teeth, picked the dirt from under her nails with a knife, rubbed some oil of roses and marigolds on her skin.... Lotte didn't really know how to make herself look presentable for a place she'd never been, but she felt the need to put forth a bit of effort to look better than she usually might.
Going through the motions took her a bit of time, and she could see the faintest peek of violet in the sky by the time she was done. It'd be dawn in another hour or two, so Lotte packed away the whiskey, her old radio and her dresses and tied up the duffel bag before taking the red dress to the little alcove of her cabin to change, for maybe the last time.
The plain and dusty dress laid aside, Lotte slipped into the red dress Alastor had made anew earlier that evening, took her time buttoning it up, letting her fingers take in the texture of the fabric and the smoothness of the buttons as they slipped into place. It hugged to her the way a dress ought to, the way none of her current ones did, but all Lotte could think was how restricting it might be if she had to fight, or run or do anything more than stand here and look some kind of way. How fancier women than she got anything done, she'd never understand.
When she emerged, Alastor was still fast asleep but Lotte found herself unable to follow suit. It was the last night she'd spend in what had been her home for near on six years. She sipped at a glass of water, picked at a bit of bread and sat at her table, taking in the look of it like this. All was quiet, now. Dark, and warm in the early dawn save for the wind rustling through the grass and sliding over the roof, the fire popping softly in the old metal stove... and Alastor's easy, even breaths from her bed.
She found herself tidying it up, though she didn't know where the need to leave it in order came from. It wasn't likely anyone else would take up residence, and if they did, they wouldn't care what state it was in.
Still, she liked seeing it put together one last time. Even mostly emptied out, it had been hers... there was a strange sentiment in that, though Lotte didn't know quite what to do with it. For years all she'd wanted was to leave, but now she felt like.... there would be a time, maybe years from now, when she'd look back on this moment in particular with nostalgia. Maybe even a little longing. For a time when the world was quiet and empty and she was the only thing alive for miles and miles, breathing and being in time with nature more than any other living thing.
The faintest rays of golden morning light were beginning to peek above the horizon when Lotte finally felt sleep creep upon her. She grabbed the sickle by its worn handle and made her way back over to the bed, settling herself between it and the dresser. The sickle lay on the floor within her grasp, but Lotte folded her arms onto the mattress and let her her cheek rest heavy on one, feet curled up beneath her dress. She watched Alastor's rhythmic breaths, admired the color of his skin and his hair in the golden morning light and let herself finally be lulled to sleep, chest rising and falling in time with his.
no subject
Lotte clearly didn't know what he'd do, even though she had a better handle on him than she had before. It was clear that she couldn't be complacent... he'd come swinging out of left field even drunk and half incapacitated as he was currently. It wasn't all bad, though, she supposed. Not when he looked at her like that.
She quickly and ruthlessly pushed down the odd sensation that was something like satisfaction, at seeing him so pleased even at her own expense and stood up as he took off his glasses and folded them on the bed. She'd half expected him to forget and that she'd have to take them off for him. Her fingertips tingled with that stolen opportunity and that, too, was something she brushed away.
Alastor wasn't hers to touch as she liked, she reminded herself. He'd offered once, to be a man to her, if she wanted it. But still that was something she wanted no part in, if brokered along with some deal. Whatever he had to offer her in that respect... well, she'd earn it fair and square or not at all.
"No, I don't... but that's the fun of it." She murmured as she went over to the stove, pushing her fingers down through the air, the flames lowering at her behest. The cabin would keep warm, but it was darker, easier to sleep.
"You just get whatever sleep you can, then." The glasses and bottle of whiskey were scooped up and set on the table, and then Lotte sat, unlacing each of her boots and setting them beneath the chair. It'd allow her to traverse the cabin floors without making as much noise, because by god, if she'd finally gotten him to sleep he was going to stay that way.
Lotte didn't do much, for the next little while. Wandered into the little alcove that served as a washroom for her, brushed her hair out and ran some water through it to reset her curls after all the scuffling. She took a wet rag and some soap to her skin to clean the dirt and dust off, brushed her teeth, picked the dirt from under her nails with a knife, rubbed some oil of roses and marigolds on her skin.... Lotte didn't really know how to make herself look presentable for a place she'd never been, but she felt the need to put forth a bit of effort to look better than she usually might.
Going through the motions took her a bit of time, and she could see the faintest peek of violet in the sky by the time she was done. It'd be dawn in another hour or two, so Lotte packed away the whiskey, her old radio and her dresses and tied up the duffel bag before taking the red dress to the little alcove of her cabin to change, for maybe the last time.
The plain and dusty dress laid aside, Lotte slipped into the red dress Alastor had made anew earlier that evening, took her time buttoning it up, letting her fingers take in the texture of the fabric and the smoothness of the buttons as they slipped into place. It hugged to her the way a dress ought to, the way none of her current ones did, but all Lotte could think was how restricting it might be if she had to fight, or run or do anything more than stand here and look some kind of way. How fancier women than she got anything done, she'd never understand.
When she emerged, Alastor was still fast asleep but Lotte found herself unable to follow suit. It was the last night she'd spend in what had been her home for near on six years. She sipped at a glass of water, picked at a bit of bread and sat at her table, taking in the look of it like this. All was quiet, now. Dark, and warm in the early dawn save for the wind rustling through the grass and sliding over the roof, the fire popping softly in the old metal stove... and Alastor's easy, even breaths from her bed.
She found herself tidying it up, though she didn't know where the need to leave it in order came from. It wasn't likely anyone else would take up residence, and if they did, they wouldn't care what state it was in.
Still, she liked seeing it put together one last time. Even mostly emptied out, it had been hers... there was a strange sentiment in that, though Lotte didn't know quite what to do with it. For years all she'd wanted was to leave, but now she felt like.... there would be a time, maybe years from now, when she'd look back on this moment in particular with nostalgia. Maybe even a little longing. For a time when the world was quiet and empty and she was the only thing alive for miles and miles, breathing and being in time with nature more than any other living thing.
The faintest rays of golden morning light were beginning to peek above the horizon when Lotte finally felt sleep creep upon her. She grabbed the sickle by its worn handle and made her way back over to the bed, settling herself between it and the dresser. The sickle lay on the floor within her grasp, but Lotte folded her arms onto the mattress and let her her cheek rest heavy on one, feet curled up beneath her dress. She watched Alastor's rhythmic breaths, admired the color of his skin and his hair in the golden morning light and let herself finally be lulled to sleep, chest rising and falling in time with his.