~~ Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project —published, in progress, for your cat — whatever. ~~
From an AU fanfic I’ve been working on.
Clarke stood in the middle of the room glaring at him. “Is he going to watch?”
“He’s assisting me,” Octavia said calmly, slipping the dress from the hangar.
“He doesn’t seem to be doing much assisting. His dress-carrying skills are top-notch, though.”
Bellamy rolled his eyes, grinding his teeth to keep from saying something he’ll regret.