[ She looks at her device only once she's ordered a car to take her back home, Drogon curled on her lap like a cat, bracing herself for -- what she in her vanity presumes will be -- a torrent of unanswered messages.
And there are, more or less. From text messages from personal assistants, to contacts at the fashion house, media follow up queries asking for her whereabouts, but only one imPort.
This isn't something to feel resentment for. In the past, she's known those who have gone missing for a day, and sometimes she'd noticed, sometimes she hadn't. In the event of extended disappearances, she knows she might do something like this -- in the hopes it would be seen one day, and better yet, replied to -- and maybe that's why she recognises it for what it is. Her heart, which had been still, gives a twinge.
She begins to thumb out a message in reply, and then deletes it, and presses the call button.
When Arthur picks up; ]
And here I was beginning to think your little fairytale was going to drag... on.
→ audio.
And there are, more or less. From text messages from personal assistants, to contacts at the fashion house, media follow up queries asking for her whereabouts, but only one imPort.
This isn't something to feel resentment for. In the past, she's known those who have gone missing for a day, and sometimes she'd noticed, sometimes she hadn't. In the event of extended disappearances, she knows she might do something like this -- in the hopes it would be seen one day, and better yet, replied to -- and maybe that's why she recognises it for what it is. Her heart, which had been still, gives a twinge.
She begins to thumb out a message in reply, and then deletes it, and presses the call button.
When Arthur picks up; ]
And here I was beginning to think your little fairytale was going to drag... on.
[ :D? ]