Thread: Me? A Model? [Leon and Sigr]

Orange juice it is then Alaia said, happy to be of help. The Jennet household wasn't very different from any other house, but it just took a few minutes in to start noticing the weird differences here and there. The softness of the wooden floor could go ignored, but soon anyone would see how wide the spaces were as designed to maneuver with ease, how the cupboards and shelves were a bit higher than the norm, and even if the house had normal chairs for those sparse and unlikely visits, there was a lack of seating spaces that weren't puffs akin to what Alaia has as bed, just smaller. As she clopped around the kitchen, Alaia grabbed a big glass and a pitcher of orange juice from the fridge, knowing well how thirsty Lionel could get with exercise. Her emotions were quite transparent as usual, since as she turned her back to him, Lionel could see her tail happily swinging side to side. It was still so dense and fluffy that it covered her backside perfectly, but it was still a notion most people wouldn't get accustomed to. As she returned with the drink after wondering about the nature of her visit, she was in time to see Lionel slapping himself in the forehead, looking up to the ceiling. Ohh Lion... she sighed with the familiar tone of patience and understanding she always had when teaching him. I swear that sometimes I think you could even play without a helmet she said, getting close to him and inspecting the reddened skin of her slapped forehead, not the first time she had made that comment about how thickheaded Lionel could be. It was of course made with such a loving tone and all her understanding that it didn't feel offensive, specially since she never gave up on him the same he never gave up on her. I have them Alaia affirmed, leaning to land a small warm kiss on Lionel's reddened forehead, as if that helped with a smacking that didn't really hurt him. Their familiarity and ease to touch each other came from long and didn't got interrupted after puberty, but it was admittedly Alaia the one that most casually touched him than the other way around, her Lion always respectful. Come to my room, we can study there Alaia said, leaving Lionel with his orange juice glass to follow her. Alaia's room held no surprise to Lionel, as he had been there plenty of times, but even then every time he got there changed a bit, as it was her safest space and was thus permeable to how her feeling came and went. The computer atop a desk in the corner showed a few fashion pictures opened in a browser, a clear sign that she had been furthering her research of not only Winston but the fashion world in general, something that was completely alien to her as she had never been concerned by it. Leaving her ample bathroom and wardrobe aside, her puff-like bed had a book next to it, showing that she had been reading some fantasy fiction minutes ago. Besides shelves full of books, Alaia had a corkboard in a wall close to her bed, always plagued with pictures that contained either Lionel or her family next to her, Alaia's support. The pictures changed once in a while, when new ones were made or if she felt nostalgic of her homeland it appeared plagued of childhood pictures from before they moved there. On said pictures, some of them still in the corkboard, Lionel could see a small, cute and happy Alaia wandering the woods next to her old home, not a worry in her face, before she even suspected the world could be such a cruel place. Here, sit next to me Alaia said grabbing Lionel's attention and sinking on her bed after retrieving her English notes, the puff itself so big that it could accommodate both of them without trouble.