Scarlett-Anne Capper is unimpressed (scrupulously) wrote in may02, @ 2010-11-12 22:11:00 |
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She was lounging on the couch, mostly because she didn’t have a lot to do. Getting out of the house had been the best idea she’d had since returning from Greece, but then, staying Tracey had it’s downfalls. For one, she hadn’t left at her characteristically early hour of dawn. Being there while Tracey herself got up and left for work had been strange, though Scarlett had pretended the other girl’s movements hadn’t woken her. She knew very well why she’d asked Tracey, of all people, for a place to stay, but that didn’t make coming to terms with things any less strenuous than they were for her. Her firs order of business, really, was to get a job. Unfortunately, work had never factored into her plans during her school years, so the NEWTS she did have didn’t really mesh promisingly. Charms was, by far, her strength, so Scarlett had decided that it was perhaps the best avenue left to her for exploration of potential careers. Job applications, however, had not been how she’d spent her free time. Most of the day had been lazed away and while part of her felt odd to be sitting around Tracey’s apartment unattended, it had had provided her a great deal of solitude.
Solitude, as it was, had lead to all sorts of thoughts. That ranged from not only her own present situation but to a myriad of questions bout those she knew. Why was Bryony obsessed with Marcus Flint? There were far more eligible, even decent, men available. Why was she unable to act on her own self-preservation when it came to her relationship with Terence? It made sense, and was her best shot at keeping things under wrap. And why, dear Merlin, was Tracey so opposed to taking her shirt off? That was really the question that preoccupied her thoughts the most. The first time she hadn’t thought much of it, but now that it had happened everytime her curiosity was getting the best of her. Tracey was hardly a prude in her opinion, so there had to be some other reason for the random display of modesty.
She’d have every chance she could ever want to ask, as now that it was nearing the end of the day, Tracey was arriving home from work. Scarlett hadn’t really bothered to dress, other than throwing on a night shirt, so when the other girl entered the apartment, so merely nodded her head in acknowledgement, quite unmoving from her place on the couch. “And? Work was exactly as fun as you imagined it would be when you woke up?” she asked dryly, mostly concentrating on the Witch Weekly in her hands. She’d ask, once it didn’t seem like pouncing.