Damsel in Distress

Weariness has her in its grasp, slowly closing its grip around her heavy eyes. Lily wouldn’t have cared if Bastien watched her eat - she would care if she nodded off mid-bite, or into her food, or something else embarrassing. Daintily picking up the crumbs by licking her fingers and lifting the bits from the plate, she looks up with a finger in her mouth as he speaks and then darts her gaze towards the other room. “I’m not going to steal from you, Bastien. Not only do I not want to, but where would I go with it? How far could I get in this snow?” Lily chuckles at both the image of herself trying to escape (without even knowing about the barrier) and at his caution. Ah, but he is right to be, she is a virtual stranger. They have a small connection, but she should not be presumptuous or naive. “If it’s alright, I think I’ll head to bed…. Tidy up in the morning.” See? It’s good to let Lily stick around. She’ll clean and shit. Add a feminine touch. Do whatever it is that American women can and Italian men can’t.   lily as if you were on fire from within the moon lives in the lining of your skin