If On A Winter's Night

[Reva Khatri]

The wooden floorboards of the living quarters above her rattled as feet passed over them in tempos so familiar Reva could tell who was moving despite being a floor below in the back of the shop, and she could also hazard a guess as to why each of them might be moving at this time. The member of her family were as familiar to her as any objects in the shop and if one thing was out of place, as her father had trained her to, she noticed.

In the dim warmth of her cosy sanctuary, temporarily hers alone purely because she was the last one up once again, Reva watched the dying fire with distracted rapture. The coal supply was in rude health – and Mei had spoken of a new object, one Reva had actually understood the use of, and it did something to cause heat that, assuming it wasn’t detrimental to the health, might come in handy. They would not freeze. Nor would they starve. Their travels took them to places where the price of all their meals could be purchased for the sake of trinket sold in one shopfront and besides which it had been a good year.

She was currently congratulating herself on just that good year with a glass of Argentinian red that had gone down altogether too well. Another would not hurt.

Several hours later Reva jerked awake, glass empty and tipped over in her lap, roused by the sound of the door closing with what was clearly supposed to be surreptitious entrance. Instead Reva called out from her seat, sharpness just about overcoming the remains of sleep in her voice.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?!”

@'Yasmina Khatri'
@'Ursula Black'

  

[Yasmina Khatri]

Ordinarily, Yasmina could creep about and be as surreptitious and stealthy as a mouse. Add an inordinate amount of alcohol into the mix, however, and the result was far less subtle and certainly less graceful. That evening - or rather, morning - was no exception. It had been a small miracle that she'd even managed to make her way back and really how she'd managed that she wouldn't be sure once sobriety returned.

In her drunken state, Yasmina was thoroughly convinced that she was the definition of undetectable quiet stealth as she let herself back into the shop. Her foot fall was heavier than usual but she was oblivious to this too. Her conviction made her discovery all the more shocking to her.

Panicking at the sound of her aunt's voice, the first thing she could think of doing was emitting a loud 'shhhhh'. She froze in place and decided that if she stood there in perfect stillness in the dark, her aunt would come to the conclusion that she was mistaken and she'd be free to continue sneaking to her bed. Except Yasmina was still drunk and absolute silence from her was more like heavy breathing and rustling as she failed to remain perfectly still courtesy of too many drinks earlier that evening.
""

DECEMBER 22ND, 1887 | @'Reva Khatri'

  

[Reva Khatri]

“Don’t you shush me, you better have a good reason for creeping in like a clumsy foal at this time of the morning,” she hissed as she got to her feet, quickly jerking out of her lingering sleepiness when she recognised the sound as having come from Yasmina. Her lips twitched despite herself at the younger woman’s precocious response to being caught, but it soon dissipated when she realised the silliness of it likely meant the younger woman was far from sober and had clearly been out by herself. Had it been one of the boys she would have raged at them by now, sending them to bed with a clip around the head to accompany the headache they would inevitably have in a few hours. But with Yasmina she couldn’t be so sharp – had never really been able to but she hated it when she was tested like this – but she felt the bottom of her stomach drop in a way it never would if she was about to face one of the boys.

Pulling back the curtain she raised a sharp, irritable eyebrow and allowed her eyes to adjust enough to see what state Yasmina was actually in. She looked flushed, she had clearly been at the drink but she looked otherwise unharmed and that was probably the most important thing: not that she was going to let it soften her reaction.

“Well?”

  

[Yasmina Khatri]

A very sheepish and dazed looking Yasmina greeted her aunt when she pulled the curtain back. "Auntie!" she began in overly cheerful, sloppy tones. She smiled toothily and looked to be on the verge of giggles. "Stop moving, will you?" After some delay, she reached out clumsily with both hands to clasp one either side of her aunt's arms to steady her, not that she actually needed steadying. "There!"

Except it hadn't worked and somehow her aunt was still moving. Yasmina felt vaguely nauseated by this. There came a sudden impulse to embrace her aunt and bury her head in the crook of her neck like a child seeking comfort. It was an impulse that she resisted if only because she didn't feel enough control over her legs at present and her aunt had a very uninviting look on her face. "You're my favorite auntie," she slurred, donning a placating smile.

DECEMBER 22ND, 1887 | @'Reva Khatri'