Tybalt grinned. “We should probably -” be less predictable, he had begun to murmur in jest, once she’d pulled back. His other hand had come to rest on her hip, and he hadn’t had any intention of removing it, not until -
His head snapped around to the doorway at the shrieked sound of Elsie’s name (her full name) courtesy of the blonde woman standing there who could only be Elsie’s cousin.
Oh, shiiiit. Eyes wide, Tyb sprang back in haste, disentangling himself from her as fast as he possibly could and then freezing a few feet away, even the respectable amount of distance not lending any less an air of guilt. How long had Elsie’s cousin been standing there???
So he really ought to have been better at keeping quiet.
Though he was doing his best not to glance sidelong at Elsie in panic, Tybalt swiftly came to the conclusion that if he was feeling like it would be preferable to fade into invisibility or to quietly sink into the floor right about now, Elsie would likely be hurtling towards having a stroke.
So he cleared his throat with the vague intent to deflect some of the impending wrath his way (had Elsie ever been screeched at before in her life?), even if his brain was ticking much, much slower than his body had been. As such, he hadn’t the foggiest idea what he was going to say to explain this, even as he opened his mouth. “Elsie was just, er, showing me... the library,” he tried, in what was - well, not his finest moment of improvisation. Calling her Elsie instead of Miss Beauregard had been yet another mistake, Tyb realised a fraction of a second later; though he supposed that was not the most glaring issue here. “...It’s a great library?”
(On the bright side, at least Mrs. Cavanaugh probably didn’t know his full name to yell it at him like that.)
His head snapped around to the doorway at the shrieked sound of Elsie’s name (her full name) courtesy of the blonde woman standing there who could only be Elsie’s cousin.
Oh, shiiiit. Eyes wide, Tyb sprang back in haste, disentangling himself from her as fast as he possibly could and then freezing a few feet away, even the respectable amount of distance not lending any less an air of guilt. How long had Elsie’s cousin been standing there???
So he really ought to have been better at keeping quiet.
Though he was doing his best not to glance sidelong at Elsie in panic, Tybalt swiftly came to the conclusion that if he was feeling like it would be preferable to fade into invisibility or to quietly sink into the floor right about now, Elsie would likely be hurtling towards having a stroke.
So he cleared his throat with the vague intent to deflect some of the impending wrath his way (had Elsie ever been screeched at before in her life?), even if his brain was ticking much, much slower than his body had been. As such, he hadn’t the foggiest idea what he was going to say to explain this, even as he opened his mouth. “Elsie was just, er, showing me... the library,” he tried, in what was - well, not his finest moment of improvisation. Calling her Elsie instead of Miss Beauregard had been yet another mistake, Tyb realised a fraction of a second later; though he supposed that was not the most glaring issue here. “...It’s a great library?”
(On the bright side, at least Mrs. Cavanaugh probably didn’t know his full name to yell it at him like that.)
The following 4 users Like Tybalt Kirke's post:
Bella Scrimgeour, Declan Wood, Elsie Kirke, Ophelia Devine
Bella Scrimgeour, Declan Wood, Elsie Kirke, Ophelia Devine
