Room 311, Saturday Morning
Sep. 24th, 2011 09:45 amPart of the problem, really, was that Miley had worn a tiny pair of shorts to bed. And while she could probably have been oblivious to minor bone structure changes, Fermaine had pampered her with enough perfect-fitting costumes over the years that she could not disregard a certain... tightness. Not to mention the weight of something very unfamiliar pressing against her leg.
Two steps to the enormous vanity mirror she'd hung over her desk, and...
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
So, bathrobe. Bathrobe now, and these shorts were just going to have to be stretched out since she sure as heck wasn't taking them off.
She looked mournfully at herself in the mirror. How would she be able to sing now?!
[[Open, duh. AND YES I HAD TO.]]
Two steps to the enormous vanity mirror she'd hung over her desk, and...
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
So, bathrobe. Bathrobe now, and these shorts were just going to have to be stretched out since she sure as heck wasn't taking them off.
She looked mournfully at herself in the mirror. How would she be able to sing now?!
[[Open, duh. AND YES I HAD TO.]]