Thread: Home, bittersweet home [Amaranthine and Sigr]

I- I get it... the student mumbled apologetic, without much strength or presence of mind to rise her hands in a friendly gesture. She was thin as well, and her figure was straighter than the teacher's, without much to brag on the curve department, but it was true that she was taller than Aurora. Around 5'7, the boots made her look even taller, so it would be weird to swap clothes. There was also the fact that the idea of wearing your teacher's clothes was incredibly awkward, so even if they shared sizes it would feel odd, although maybe not as odd as dressing with her husband's clothes. Either way, there was no good solution to their predicament, and clothing was a minor issue given what happened, but still bothered her in ways she couldn't quite understand completely. Of course, she had been caught in a moment of true self expression, beaten and berated by it, so... The boots and the jacket are fine she said, I'd like to keep them added, as not only had she picked them but also were almost a uniform of sorts, the sole survivors of her greatest struggle so far in her new path. No, she had survived as well, he had to. Slowly she peeled the wet jacket and left it aside, stepping down from the boots and losing a couple inches of height. The rest it's... garbage she said, awaiting until she was alone in the bathroom and Aurora had brought the clothes before undressing. I'm guessing a light tea, I don't think my stomach can handle anything else she said, shifting a bit, unable to cover the bruises. Thanks she finally managed to utter, a first but not the last, feeling a bit embarrassed that she hadn't thanked her teacher yet. Once she got the clothes ready and the bathroom free, the student peeled her tattered, drenched and stinky clothes while the running water started to get heated, slowly clouding the room. She barely recognized the reflection on the mirror, the split lip, the muddled makeup, nor did she completely want to feel portrayed by it. She wanted to be her true self, but as things were, she had to settle with at least stop being a victim. The final piece of garment, some simple steel grey panties where promptly removed and thrown into the pile of clothes, an embarrassing, stained lump of shame. The warm water, almost hot enough to be uncomfortable sent stings along her body as she stepped in, but it was pleasant being able to feel something other than that empty void, something cleansing, renewing. Deafened by the shower and the bathroom door, the student didn't hear the front one opening, as the husband stepped home back from the job, looking around with his clear blue eyes. Richard James was a handsome lean man, specially when he did his best to look dignified and in control, but who entered through the door was a more homely version of himself. Slouching a bit, the architect showed that he had a tough day in the studio, his relaxed and tired posture diminishing the effect of his 5'9 height. The disheveled clothes had lost their fancy and serious appeal, and judging by how messed his somewhat short, dirty blonde hair looked, it was clear that he had brushed through it with his fingers in frustration, a habit that was hard to break. Hi Rory Richard said lovingly, as even a bad day couldn't hide the love he felt for his wife. Even if he wasn't afraid to share any troubles that crossed his mind and never shied away from communicating with Aurora, he wasn't one to let work issues drag his private life. Dealing with the work issues at home was what costed his father his marriage and he had learned that lesson while young. Just a look at Aurora coupled by the shower noise were enough for Richard to know that something was odd that night, and even if many people would have jumped to the worst conclusion possible, Richard's faith on Aurora was absolute, so there had to be something else going on. Aurora? he just wondered after bridging the distance and greeting her with a peck on the lips, not knowing how exactly ask her what was going on.