[da fuck is this shit. astrid isn't used to seeing that many places that compare to her ridiculous richie rich house, but the castle wins. as a byproduct of living with art/antique dealers for so many years (and assisting attica occasionally, but mostly her family), she can't help but try to identify and assign a rough estimate of a price to the plethora of things plastered along the corridor. it helps distract her from the pool of anxiety welling inside of her because of … ~*~*~*~commitment~*~*~*~.
but by the time the doors have closed and she's in the room with wynn, she's managed to pick her nerve back up from where she dropped it.]
I know you heard the doors close. You can't just pretend I'm not here.
no subject
but by the time the doors have closed and she's in the room with wynn, she's managed to pick her nerve back up from where she dropped it.]
I know you heard the doors close. You can't just pretend I'm not here.