She takes her time getting ready, using her regimen as an excuse to get her thoughts together. Hair and makeup and clothes, they're all armour of a sort. Only this isn't the look Shaz will know.
She's not quite the Alex Drake she was at Fenchurch, but then again, she's not quite the Alex Drake of 2008 either.
She wanders back out to the wardrobe, her towel forgotten entirely this time. Another set of clothes is waiting for her, and she doesn't even have the wherewithal to be surprised by that. Another simple silk tunic and couture jeans. And her favourite pair of trainers. That does manage to get a smile.
When she's dressed, she ambles back over and nudges his booted foot with a toe.
no subject
She's not quite the Alex Drake she was at Fenchurch, but then again, she's not quite the Alex Drake of 2008 either.
She wanders back out to the wardrobe, her towel forgotten entirely this time. Another set of clothes is waiting for her, and she doesn't even have the wherewithal to be surprised by that. Another simple silk tunic and couture jeans. And her favourite pair of trainers. That does manage to get a smile.
When she's dressed, she ambles back over and nudges his booted foot with a toe.
'You hungry, love?'