[ something within her stirs, tries to surface. it struggles, as if caught in the undertow, unable to surface in spite of wanting to.
leia hated fashion at first. she rebelled against it, tore her dresses and ran from her aunts, romping about without shoes on or care for the dirt and grass she was dragging long hems through. but as teenager, that changed. she grew to appreciate it and even enjoy it, but that enjoyment was very short lived. now, she was grateful to have access to clothing that fit her without having to be rolled up, tucked in, or mended. ]
What would you suggest? [ those pieces of her trapped beneath the waves almost sing out in response to her indulgence, but a larger part feels conflicted; almost guilty. virtual or not, the resources her were bountiful and she no longer knew how to handle resources that could easily be replenished. ]