Room 6945 || The Naked Now || Locked to diosorogloria
It had happened not long after she'd entered the library.
In the incessant stuffy heat of the room, Monaco had found it prudent to slip out of her cardigan, draping it over the back of the chair in a sort of antisocial territorial claim. The air had felt deceptively cool against her skin, a bit pink from the heat and just slightly dewy with perspiration. With every exhale, her breath caressed the backs of her forearms as she held her book open on the table before her. Blue eyes skimmed the fine print on the page, but she processed no words. She had too many other things on her mind right now, but she still thought it would be best to try to distract herself.
Impatiently, Monaco sighed, closing the book before her with a thud. She stood gracefully, the only sound in the empty library the scrape of her chair against the floor, and slowly began to pace through the rows of bookshelves, looking for something new with which to occupy her mind. Every so often, when she'd reached the end of a row, she'd glance back at the table where she'd left her sweater and that first book, just to make sure no one had taken them. While at first she'd thought herself paranoid, her fears became strangely justified a few minutes later; when she'd looked back yet again, her cardigan was simply absent from where she'd left it. Curiously, returned to her table, or what she assumed was her table, heels clicking loudly against the floor as she walked. No, it hadn't fallen onto the floor... Monaco made a few laps around the surrounding rows of bookshelves, searching for whoever could have taken her sweater.
Finding no one, not even hearing footsteps anywhere at all in the library, she slowed to a stop, her fingertips coming up to her lips as she pondered where on earth that sweater had gone. It was then, though, that things began to fall into place; quite suddenly, Monaco was without clothes at all, her current sundress obviously having met the same mysterious fate as her sweater. And, as luck would have it, just as the panic of suddenly finding herself naked by some supernatural means was beginning to set in, Monaco heard the door on the other side of the library creak open, the following footsteps seeming to take the shortest route toward her.
In the incessant stuffy heat of the room, Monaco had found it prudent to slip out of her cardigan, draping it over the back of the chair in a sort of antisocial territorial claim. The air had felt deceptively cool against her skin, a bit pink from the heat and just slightly dewy with perspiration. With every exhale, her breath caressed the backs of her forearms as she held her book open on the table before her. Blue eyes skimmed the fine print on the page, but she processed no words. She had too many other things on her mind right now, but she still thought it would be best to try to distract herself.
Impatiently, Monaco sighed, closing the book before her with a thud. She stood gracefully, the only sound in the empty library the scrape of her chair against the floor, and slowly began to pace through the rows of bookshelves, looking for something new with which to occupy her mind. Every so often, when she'd reached the end of a row, she'd glance back at the table where she'd left her sweater and that first book, just to make sure no one had taken them. While at first she'd thought herself paranoid, her fears became strangely justified a few minutes later; when she'd looked back yet again, her cardigan was simply absent from where she'd left it. Curiously, returned to her table, or what she assumed was her table, heels clicking loudly against the floor as she walked. No, it hadn't fallen onto the floor... Monaco made a few laps around the surrounding rows of bookshelves, searching for whoever could have taken her sweater.
Finding no one, not even hearing footsteps anywhere at all in the library, she slowed to a stop, her fingertips coming up to her lips as she pondered where on earth that sweater had gone. It was then, though, that things began to fall into place; quite suddenly, Monaco was without clothes at all, her current sundress obviously having met the same mysterious fate as her sweater. And, as luck would have it, just as the panic of suddenly finding herself naked by some supernatural means was beginning to set in, Monaco heard the door on the other side of the library creak open, the following footsteps seeming to take the shortest route toward her.