The truth is I am a very jealous, possessive and petty woman at times. I hold no regrets.

Someone was flustered.

Of course you don’t. Don’t mind me. I’ve no idea what I’m talking about.

Was I too forward? Shall I blunt my words?

Now who’s the one dancing on the edge of vulgarity?

I’m glad I illicit such a reaction.

Am I seeing streaks of grey in those bountiful curls?

Yet you didn’t have them fix it immediately, left the salon, and they still breathe.

Hmm. Yes, let go with that.

You’re quite welcome to hide out in either mine, or Lucian’s flats until the drama subsided. Though considering the nature of this place, you might want to pack a bag or two for an extended stay.

Oh, no doubt he has a fondness for me in a suit, but he also has a thing for me on the rare occasion I wear jeans. Though he mocks me because all of my jeans are custom made and fit uniquely to me.

Funny how you never mention the fit in your mocking. Always the price tag. Though I suppose your constant lagging behind might attest moreso to your claims of fit…

I’ll be sure to pack a pair of jeans for Lake Charles.

(Aghast.)

She walks in beauty like the night. Of cloudless climes and starry skies. All that's best, dark and bright, meet in her aspect and her eyes.

She, as in Anne Beatrix Wilmot, whom Lord Byron was inspired by when he wrote the poem.

Hobgoblins, indeed.

“Thing?”

“It seems the little blue bird has finally removed the dagger from my chest. Time for a drink, a shower, and a plan of destruction.”