(no subject)

Date: Sunday, 23 May 2010 02:44 (UTC)
Until then:

She heard him climbing the stairs; turned her face resolutely to the door. For one dreadful half-second she imagined that — Oh God, is it possible — the dog might burst in, hurl himself upon her, panting and grinning, whining and slurping, snatching up (as he was prone to do) jawfuls of her very clean and well-brushed hair.

Mantel, you are a sick fuck. DO NOT WANT.

she eased herself into the bed and put her head on his pillow, only a residue of disappointment remained

Residue of disappointment
Residue of disappointment
Residue of disappointment
RESIDUE OF DISAPPOINTMENT


Also, THAT ICON IS SOME KIND OF SEXY FIERCE HOLY SHIT. The original pic. I demand to see it. 8|a
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montagnarde1793

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