The sound of ripping fabric made his heart sink. He'd tried to help and he'd inadvertently made it all worse. His spell might not have been the direct cause of the skirt tearing, but the gnome probably wouldn't have ripped it to shreds quite so quickly had it not been for Ford's magical intervention. He was being an absolute idiot about this, and he didn't know why his wits seemed to have fled him. She was beautiful, yes, but plenty of women were beautiful, and they did not generally leave him feeling this utterly useless. What was —
Oh Merlin, he could see her entire leg. As soon as he caught sight of it his brain went blank, unable to hold on to anything else except holy fuck that's her entire leg, and then — the garden gnome flying through the air collided with his chest. It was entirely inexcusable to be caught off guard by something he had literally just summoned, but caught off guard he was; he fell backwards, on the ground again, this time with an irritated and confused garden gnome crouched on his chest and a stretch of petticoat fabric thrown inelegantly over his face.
The woman was shrieking. The gnome was chittering angrily. By now, he assumed they were attracting attention from other attendees of the garden party. Ford's face was red as a tomato, beneath the shroud of her torn petticoat. He swatted at where he supposed the gnome to be, trying to knock it off and clear his face of fabric.
Oh Merlin, he could see her entire leg. As soon as he caught sight of it his brain went blank, unable to hold on to anything else except holy fuck that's her entire leg, and then — the garden gnome flying through the air collided with his chest. It was entirely inexcusable to be caught off guard by something he had literally just summoned, but caught off guard he was; he fell backwards, on the ground again, this time with an irritated and confused garden gnome crouched on his chest and a stretch of petticoat fabric thrown inelegantly over his face.
The woman was shrieking. The gnome was chittering angrily. By now, he assumed they were attracting attention from other attendees of the garden party. Ford's face was red as a tomato, beneath the shroud of her torn petticoat. He swatted at where he supposed the gnome to be, trying to knock it off and clear his face of fabric.
Set by Lady!