it was angstier and better in my head, don’t look at me.
“You know, something rather funny happened, earlier,” said Musichetta.
She was looking like sin itself, her hair undone on her bare shoulders, wearing only her corset and her skirt, that she lifted up carelessly as she sat on the couch next to Bossuet. He figured he would probably appreciate the view of her lovely ankles much more if Musichetta’s voice hadn’t been a tad too soft - something told him that there wasn’t exactly anything funny in what she was going to tell him.
“You see, I had a conversation with Joly this afternoon, about how I missed you when you didn’t join us, and that I was afraid that you loved Joly too much, and me too little, to allow our little moments together to become an habit,” Musichetta continued, staring at him so seriously it made Bossuet’s skin start to crawl.
“Ah,” he said, because his throat had suddenly run too dry for words.
“Now, here’s the funny part,” Musichetta said, leaning in. “When I told Joly you obviously loved him, he laughed.”
Bossuet couldn’t help it; he glanced at the door. This, he realized quickly as Musichetta’s mouth tightened, was a bad move. He tried a smile;