He was staring again and while he knew that, she most certainly did not. Unpacked and in their room Anton and Christine were getting ready for the dinner party that was to happen downstairs. Christine chose to get ready in the bathroom, this having been decided upon her grabbing a suitcase and shutting the door without considering him. She had forgotten to check whether or not she shut the door all the way when she stepped out in a robe to grab her shoes. Anton had seen, only once, Christine in her undergarments and that was a few years ago. Times most certainly had changed. The fading sunlight showed through the crack in the door, reflecting off of Christine's skin like gold. Anton realized he had been in the middle of tying his bow tie and buttoning his shirt buttons when he realized Christine's subtle mistake. If she caught him now his angry guise would no doubt be revealed and in turn he may have her be mad at him again. Slowly Anton began buttoning his buttons, though figuring himself not stupid, did not look away from the luminescent sight in front of him. She wears garter belts now, he thought. But of course she would, she was Christine the French Duchess such things were cultural norms. She had her blonde hair falling over her shoulders in massive waves and although he was feet away from that door he could still see her dark eyelashes and her blue eyes caught the sun so glamorously. She was a beauty. He had loved her from the very start of their childhood friendship. They were both adults now. Man. Woman. His feet took no permission from his brain, neither did his hand as he took hold of the door. Christine looked up, startled. Her oceanic blue eyes met his chocolate brown ones. They stared for a moment and Anton wondered for a moment what he would do next. He wanted so very much to kiss her, to take hold of her fair frame and kiss her so hard she could never forget the feeling of that kiss. But rather, "I'm sorry, I was staring." He shut the door.
A small stream of carriages were almost to the mountainside cabin. Everyone, still adorned in their dinner attire, was talking restlessly about the selfish events they would endure during their weekend stay. Christine, seated next to Anton, said nothing, choosing to stare out of her window at the passing scenery. Anton made no attempt to converse with her, rather he spoke emphatically with his neighbor about a hunt the males were planning for tomorrow. Their carriage came to a stop and without missing a beat Christine stepped out of the vehicle, surprising the driver who had come to open their door. It hadn't snowed for the entire time the royals had come to France making it much easier on Christine's heeled feet. She politely took her luggage from the driver and waited for the rest of the carriages to come to a stop. "Can't wait for the weekend, eh?" Garrett put a hand on Christine's shoulder. "A whole weekend and I'm sharing a room with your…charming," Christine couldn't decide whether she liked or despised the word on Anton, "Cousin. Who wouldn't feel…the way I feel." Garrett's suspicious look didn't last long when Ariana came skipping up beside him. "Shall we my dear?" Garrett asked her and they walked toward the cabin. Anton was now standing next to Christine, silent, tall, imposing. "Shall we?" She asked him. He graced her with a downward glance, said nothing, and though waiting for her, walked toward the house.
I love; piercings tattoos colorful hair knuckle rings black eyeliner ribcages and collarbones old black and white movies (specifically French or Italian) people with two different colored eyes the moon tarot cards platform heels and red lipstick :}