#annie i will be back to the miserable half of derbyshire in a few days with a sketch for youuuuu (rubbing my hands together like a fly)

[ephemeralove]

"Katarina, please?" She asks with sweet glistening eyes. "Please?"

"...I will be forthright with you. You should know I adore clothing. I believe it an expression of disposition while outwardly projecting what one would love to be perceived as... And it is only right that someone as incredible as you should find something so lovely to match your aptitude. Your beauty is understated, both inside and out, so I'd love to help you..."

She tapped her chin. "A dress could even feel like home, if you allow it to."

Hooking her by the elbow, she guided them both in. "...I could even help tailor the dress closer to your specifications. ...It will be fun!" Laughing on her way in, she waved at the dress store owner who now had her name on her lips and the wisp of familiarity painted over her gaze.

"Is there anything that catches your eyes?"

She has never doubted that Nanna has a way with words (that way, she thinks, is sincerity; captivating, and undeniable). Still it surprises her that she should be lured from her shell so easily, much as she has made it both her armor and her cage -- but when she promises that a dress can feel like home, Katarina feels something stay with her.

"Home..." The word turns over on her tongue. Gray attention drifts from where it had rested on her companion's face to the flurry of fabrics as the two of them breeze into the store, arm in arm. An inscrutable thought comes and goes, little more than a shimmer in dim eyes.

"That..." They abandon the dresses to return to Nanna -- to the sweet anticipation on her face, to the way the shopkeeper answers her with a familiar affection. How she has come to be worthy of such a beautiful person's esteem, Katarina does not know; rather, she suspects that she still is not. Nevertheless something tangles in her lips, wry at first, and uncertain, knotted up with words yet to be spoken. Then in a rush, they untangle -- and to even Katarina's surprise, it unravels as gentle laughter.

"...That would be nice," she admits, and there is warmth in her eyes like summer rain. Simply, suddenly, and certainly, Katarina knows that the greater sin would be to deny her friend this small happiness. Of all the things she has stolen from others, she would not have one be Nanna's joy. After all, she has all the rest of her life to carry her sins; she should not allow them to impose their sorrows on the good that exists around her.

"I believe it," Katarina continues softly, affection in the scant wisp of mirth that haunts her voice. "Your clothes are always... ah." Is it that the words evade her, or that Nanna defies simple description? "...lovely. Bright -- dazzling."

But what of Katarina? What does one ask to be perceived as when she so often asks the world to forget? One hand closes over the side of the scarred other, drawn close to herself in a beat of uncertainty.

Is there anything that catches your eyes?

Not at first. It takes a second glance to notice the dark dress squirreled away in a corner of the store. Katarina approaches hesitantly, reaching toward the garment but never touching. In the dark of it, flowers bloom -- those things that only blossom when touched by light.

What does she want them to know? She has only ever wanted to be known by those who matter to her; perhaps that is why, even if softly, she murmurs her answer aloud.

"I'm..." The hand withdraws, fingers curling into her palm. "...becoming myself."

Suddenly her head turns at a bashful angle, the side of her jaw brushing against her shoulder. Specklings of pink warm her cheeks, but she meets Nanna's eyes all the same.

"...Thank you. This means so much to me. Not the dress-- ah, not just the dress-- but you. Your friendship..." Being seen. Being known. Her gaze dips to the floor before rising again.

"Could we... stop by another store on our way back?"

After a heartbeat, Katarina dares to smile.

"I'd like... I want to get you a present, too."