A shame about the storm. We might have been able to have some company if it weren't for the snow.
[If the overall...everything of the various domesticity around them is anything to go by, the house has been made up to receive company. A party, perhaps, or at least some intimate gathering for a few people. The weather in the dream contrived to keep them here alone, but that shouldn't be anything to complain about. A shame about the storm, maybe, but she sounds content with what she has here. If only she could quite articulate how difficult it once was for her to accept these limitless, tenuous moments of quiet. Perhaps it's this small purpose, serving her will, that makes accepting that gap all the sweeter.]
Whatever you saw fit, it would be enough. [It's another statement made in earnest; even for Ophelia under different, less altered states of mind, her loyalty comes with few expectations of reciprocation. Lilias may not have walked through fire to pull her from the blaze, but that doesn't diminish the intensity of her sentiments now.]
... However, I'm not one to settle in my ambitions. [Ophelia isn't exactly winning any brat competitions any time soon, but she's getting better about letting the strength of her will shine through, about giving some voice to what she wants. Submissive or not, someone who fought with the energy of the woman she met in another dream probably doesn't mind a bit of a challenge.] I'm equally able to enjoy your company like this, right? [Under the pretense of gathering up the remaining hair at the end of the braid to pin it, she also brushes her knuckle along the nape of her neck. It's subtle enough to easily explain away, enough plausible deniability given her task, but her finger lingers just a little too long and traces the skin just a little too deliberately. She's blushing, being this bold, but luckily Lilias is faced away from her.] Would you care for a drink when I'm finished? I'd like to sit and share one with you, if it pleases you.
no subject
[If the overall...everything of the various domesticity around them is anything to go by, the house has been made up to receive company. A party, perhaps, or at least some intimate gathering for a few people. The weather in the dream contrived to keep them here alone, but that shouldn't be anything to complain about. A shame about the storm, maybe, but she sounds content with what she has here. If only she could quite articulate how difficult it once was for her to accept these limitless, tenuous moments of quiet. Perhaps it's this small purpose, serving her will, that makes accepting that gap all the sweeter.]
Whatever you saw fit, it would be enough. [It's another statement made in earnest; even for Ophelia under different, less altered states of mind, her loyalty comes with few expectations of reciprocation. Lilias may not have walked through fire to pull her from the blaze, but that doesn't diminish the intensity of her sentiments now.]
... However, I'm not one to settle in my ambitions. [Ophelia isn't exactly winning any brat competitions any time soon, but she's getting better about letting the strength of her will shine through, about giving some voice to what she wants. Submissive or not, someone who fought with the energy of the woman she met in another dream probably doesn't mind a bit of a challenge.] I'm equally able to enjoy your company like this, right? [Under the pretense of gathering up the remaining hair at the end of the braid to pin it, she also brushes her knuckle along the nape of her neck. It's subtle enough to easily explain away, enough plausible deniability given her task, but her finger lingers just a little too long and traces the skin just a little too deliberately. She's blushing, being this bold, but luckily Lilias is faced away from her.] Would you care for a drink when I'm finished? I'd like to sit and share one with you, if it pleases you.