Never was there a stronger truth than that. Franziska's fingers itched to tame that hair, to accent those fantastically frightening eyes of hers. To scrub her and then stick her in a milk bath. But the woman suited furs over silk, leather over lace. It wasn't that Franziska couldn't see her in either of those rejected but this was Iris. Beautiful but deadly. Practical as well. Lace, chiffon, silk...well. These were not.
"Oh, beer is fine." Out came her measuring tape after she peeled off her own coat and gloves. She shook her hair free with one hand and approached Iris. "Do you ever think of cutting your hair? I wouldn't if I were you but I was just curious."