MABEL
Mabel automatically curled back into herself, knees brought upwards, arms resting on top, and the rest of her hidden from view; embarrassed, ashamed, somewhere in between. “Thank you,” was a murmured thing for the compliments that were probably meaningless and only conveyed to be polite – her eyes shifting to the floor, hoping someone else would have a go, and take the attention off of her.
But it was Cameron’s turn, and so her gaze refocused, watching, waiting, head tilting, listening ears rapt and focused. In some places her stare widened – attributing to either shock, surprise, or disgust (because the king sounded like a horrible wretch), leaning forward only when she was being caught by the tones (imagining a needed head, a husband soon to be departed with his own), and then her mouth left agape at the ending. Eventually, she paused, considering – before nodding, giving and granting her own broad approval. “Good for her,” she finally added.
But it was Cameron’s turn, and so her gaze refocused, watching, waiting, head tilting, listening ears rapt and focused. In some places her stare widened – attributing to either shock, surprise, or disgust (because the king sounded like a horrible wretch), leaning forward only when she was being caught by the tones (imagining a needed head, a husband soon to be departed with his own), and then her mouth left agape at the ending. Eventually, she paused, considering – before nodding, giving and granting her own broad approval. “Good for her,” she finally added.
If you dig under my feet
You will find things that you don't want to see
You will find things that you don't want to see
