[Much as she's trying, she can't wipe away all the traces of their almost-tryst. Combing her fingers through her hair just tangles it further, and there's no way she can fix the smudged state of her make-up now. It's the end of the day anyway. She's probably better off washing her face. Memories of this little indiscretion won't go down the drain as easily as soapy water.]
I should probably turn in.
[Perhaps she'll fall asleep and wake up to the realization that it was all a dream. A wonderful horrible dream. When she meets his eyes, her face is a blank slate. An indiscernible expression bearing nothing but coldness.]
Good night, Mr. Stark. Enjoy taking your leave tomorrow. I'll be expecting you on Sunday.
[Formality has always been her shield and she puts up another wall as she moves to walk past him.]
no subject
I should probably turn in.
[Perhaps she'll fall asleep and wake up to the realization that it was all a dream. A wonderful horrible dream. When she meets his eyes, her face is a blank slate. An indiscernible expression bearing nothing but coldness.]
Good night, Mr. Stark. Enjoy taking your leave tomorrow. I'll be expecting you on Sunday.
[Formality has always been her shield and she puts up another wall as she moves to walk past him.]