The scent of fabrics and the scents they've been washed in, as well as that chemical cleaner all stores seem to use, fills my nose as I enter the boutique. Anise looks up from arranging some accessories over on the counter.
"Citra! Right on time. You look like hell."
Her face immediately brightens, then darkens as she greets me bluntly. I'd managed maybe three or four hours of sleep before waking up and diving into modeling research until my eyes burned.
Anything to avoid replaying everything I got up to last night. Not that's it's not interesting at all to think about, but it's really very embarrassing altogether that I cannot simply picture it a *little*... without feeling aroused and sad at the same time.
"Good morning to you, too."
"Well, I did ask you to come to me for a reason. What are these color combinations? Lets get those off and into something he can't say no to."
