A new year was approaching, which meant little enough to Kristoffer, who could not be bought in by the usual talk of resolutions and high-minded promises of reinvention: one could not promise to self-improve if there was nothing to be improved.
He couldn’t say the same of everyone here, however, scanning the crowd for Frida with a cocktail in hand – and Frida had scurried off somewhere like the mouse of a person she was, which left only... “Miss Whitledge,” Kris greeted, his returned smile rather less kind, though he was pleased enough to see her. Obviously he had always thought her a bad influence on Frida’s character, and had always loathed Miss Whitledge’s brother, too – but she was pretty, nonetheless, and the aforementioned reasons made it twice as pleasurable to pick on her. “Still ‘Miss’, I take it?” He asked. (Not that she had been out very long at all, and not that Frida had any prospects either – but still, he thought it was a nice insinuation that there was probably nothing Darling Whitledge had to be celebrating from the dawn of a new year.)
He couldn’t say the same of everyone here, however, scanning the crowd for Frida with a cocktail in hand – and Frida had scurried off somewhere like the mouse of a person she was, which left only... “Miss Whitledge,” Kris greeted, his returned smile rather less kind, though he was pleased enough to see her. Obviously he had always thought her a bad influence on Frida’s character, and had always loathed Miss Whitledge’s brother, too – but she was pretty, nonetheless, and the aforementioned reasons made it twice as pleasurable to pick on her. “Still ‘Miss’, I take it?” He asked. (Not that she had been out very long at all, and not that Frida had any prospects either – but still, he thought it was a nice insinuation that there was probably nothing Darling Whitledge had to be celebrating from the dawn of a new year.)
