[ Maine is a short flight from Montreal and she had taken a couple of weeks out of her calendar for the specific purpose of visiting Philippa, a break that proved much needed. Mr. Tremblay had made her work hard for her money. Really, it had been a rough weekend. Coming to the woods with the other girl has been a soothing step back into the kind of wilderness she has never experienced before, even Chartres was mostly fields and stone. The trees here are so tall. The cabin so cosy, a luxury, surely, that she will rarely be offered in any other contexts.
Thus, as Philippa takes her hand over breakfast, referring to the tub that she's decked in rose petals and an outdoor view, she smiles and inclines her head slightly to one side in amusement. You did, she murmurs, gently, stroking the girl's fingers softly before releasing her, returning to her bread with butter and other luxuries they've picked up at the harbour town nearby. She likes how at home Philippa seems in this environment, it makes it a bit less disturbing how she's a complete stranger to it herself.
A bit safer.
She glances out at the tub through the window, the petals still littering the water remnants at the bottom of it, the way she left it this morning. She felt like a goddess, doing that soak. As if nature itself was answering to her. Philippa's very own brand of magic, she thinks. That unyielding optimism. ]
Will you find me more rose petals when these go bad?
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2021-02-19 12:55 pm (UTC)Thus, as Philippa takes her hand over breakfast, referring to the tub that she's decked in rose petals and an outdoor view, she smiles and inclines her head slightly to one side in amusement. You did, she murmurs, gently, stroking the girl's fingers softly before releasing her, returning to her bread with butter and other luxuries they've picked up at the harbour town nearby. She likes how at home Philippa seems in this environment, it makes it a bit less disturbing how she's a complete stranger to it herself.
A bit safer.
She glances out at the tub through the window, the petals still littering the water remnants at the bottom of it, the way she left it this morning. She felt like a goddess, doing that soak. As if nature itself was answering to her. Philippa's very own brand of magic, she thinks. That unyielding optimism. ]
Will you find me more rose petals when these go bad?