The mirrors on the wall seemed, all of a sudden, to be compressing the room around them – Porphyria was trying determinedly not to catch sight of herself, as if her reflection would reveal something strange about her – some apparent ‘sweetness’, perhaps. Was this what had made Mrs. Malfoy swoon mere minutes ago, their sharp kaleidoscopic surroundings making the world spin? Everything did seem... well, somehow upturned and irregular. Sweet.
Or maybe it was Mrs. Malfoy’s very delicate grasp that was making her lightheaded, like this woman was a wraith, some figure flitted out of her imagination, scarcely real to the touch – and then the hand was gone. It had been there for quite some time, and yet Porphyria’s fingers closed in on nothing now in something like dismay. As if she had missed a chance of something.
But if she was trying to avoid catch her own eye in the mirrors, there was nowhere to look at in the room but Mrs. Malfoy. So she surrendered her gaze to the blonde again – schooling her face into an impassive regard – in case November happened to swoon again. She didn’t look likely to, which was probably fortunate... but now it was difficult to continue on as if nothing had happened. Phyri couldn’t help herself; she reached out for a fold of gauzy pink fabric at Mrs. Malfoy’s shoulder where it had gotten mussed in her fall, running her fingers gently under it to fix it, and forcing herself to seem unmoved. “Shall I...” get you some water, help you sit, leave you be; Phyri didn’t know precisely what she was going to offer, but she trailed off, still considering, and before she could decide the best course of action, there was a rap at the door that made her leap out of her skin.
“Oh!” Porphyria exclaimed in a rush, pulse racing faster than it had any excuse to as her reason finally caught up, “that’ll be Ophelia –” Why it felt like Ophelia was interrupting something when they had only been waiting here in the first place, Phyri couldn’t quite say, but, trying to shake herself out of it, she lurched for the door.
wrap and something new? <3
Or maybe it was Mrs. Malfoy’s very delicate grasp that was making her lightheaded, like this woman was a wraith, some figure flitted out of her imagination, scarcely real to the touch – and then the hand was gone. It had been there for quite some time, and yet Porphyria’s fingers closed in on nothing now in something like dismay. As if she had missed a chance of something.
But if she was trying to avoid catch her own eye in the mirrors, there was nowhere to look at in the room but Mrs. Malfoy. So she surrendered her gaze to the blonde again – schooling her face into an impassive regard – in case November happened to swoon again. She didn’t look likely to, which was probably fortunate... but now it was difficult to continue on as if nothing had happened. Phyri couldn’t help herself; she reached out for a fold of gauzy pink fabric at Mrs. Malfoy’s shoulder where it had gotten mussed in her fall, running her fingers gently under it to fix it, and forcing herself to seem unmoved. “Shall I...” get you some water, help you sit, leave you be; Phyri didn’t know precisely what she was going to offer, but she trailed off, still considering, and before she could decide the best course of action, there was a rap at the door that made her leap out of her skin.
“Oh!” Porphyria exclaimed in a rush, pulse racing faster than it had any excuse to as her reason finally caught up, “that’ll be Ophelia –” Why it felt like Ophelia was interrupting something when they had only been waiting here in the first place, Phyri couldn’t quite say, but, trying to shake herself out of it, she lurched for the door.
a sublime set by Lady! <3