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A Question Asked...or not. [in the future, at Ethan's apartment]
Ostensibly, Lillian was there to help design the production for Ethan's new musical.
Ostensibly.
However, precious little drawing was going onto her sketchpad. There was doodling, of course. And there was gazing thoughtfully out of the window. But very little drawing.
Lillian frowned as she thought, swung her legs on the stool she was sitting on, fretted inwardly about how freakishly short she was at 35, and then fretted more about the question she wanted to ask, and then sighed. There were very few things she could not talk to Ethan about, very few things that she had any difficulty discussing with him.
She hadn't realized how difficult it would be to actually broach this topic with him when the time actually came to do it. But if she didn't do it tonight, she never would, and she really, really wanted the answer to be yes.
She thought it would be. She hoped it would be.
But what if it weren't?
She sighed again, softer this time, and then leaned her head on her hand.
She should really do some more sketching...
Ostensibly.
However, precious little drawing was going onto her sketchpad. There was doodling, of course. And there was gazing thoughtfully out of the window. But very little drawing.
Lillian frowned as she thought, swung her legs on the stool she was sitting on, fretted inwardly about how freakishly short she was at 35, and then fretted more about the question she wanted to ask, and then sighed. There were very few things she could not talk to Ethan about, very few things that she had any difficulty discussing with him.
She hadn't realized how difficult it would be to actually broach this topic with him when the time actually came to do it. But if she didn't do it tonight, she never would, and she really, really wanted the answer to be yes.
She thought it would be. She hoped it would be.
But what if it weren't?
She sighed again, softer this time, and then leaned her head on her hand.
She should really do some more sketching...