One-half of Deux Lectrices, writing about the things I read.
She was dressed as she had been earlier that evening, and the Western style seemed odd on her, even though the fabric was Chinese. He was so used to seeing her in more traditional clothing. When they were shut in, she locked the door once more from the inside.
Gracefully, she moved toward him, her hair shining in the lamplight.
Stop it, Cross.