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Oct. 13th, 2012 02:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sexuallyconfuses[ Michiru's apartment is exactly what one would expect of such a proper, well-to-do girl: expansive and lavish, but still within the realm of tasteful, never dipping into gaudiness. plush carpeted floors, stainless leather chairs, sterile white fluorescent lighting. on a shelf in the living room stands a row of china ornaments of the sort Haruka is well-familiar with from her family's home, as expensive as it is useless. (beautifully intricate, though; never fails to impress the guests.) the glass surface of the coffee table by which they sit glimmers in the light, and Haruka can see her own reflection in it with stark clarity whenever she sets her beautifully intricate teacup down on its matching coaster, before picking it back up a few moments later to take a sip.
not a single object out of place, not a single speck of dirt to be seen.
the whole place looks unlived in.
to anyone not used to such living conditions, she imagines even sitting in this chair would bring about a sense of intense discomfort, like their mere body weight atop it could be enough to cause some manner of irreversible damage. as it were, though, the unease tugging at the pit of Haruka's stomach only stems from the situation at hand, and the sight of Michiru's home only serves to bring up a sense of something like nostalgia except wholly devoid of fondness, coupled with a vague feeling of pity.
but that's neither here nor there. ]
... So, [ she brings the teacup to her lips, gaze focused on the girl in front of her over the rim, ] let's start with what we know.
not a single object out of place, not a single speck of dirt to be seen.
the whole place looks unlived in.
to anyone not used to such living conditions, she imagines even sitting in this chair would bring about a sense of intense discomfort, like their mere body weight atop it could be enough to cause some manner of irreversible damage. as it were, though, the unease tugging at the pit of Haruka's stomach only stems from the situation at hand, and the sight of Michiru's home only serves to bring up a sense of something like nostalgia except wholly devoid of fondness, coupled with a vague feeling of pity.
but that's neither here nor there. ]
... So, [ she brings the teacup to her lips, gaze focused on the girl in front of her over the rim, ] let's start with what we know.
