Chapter Text
Evelyn was keen and tender, running a hand over Nina's back.
Her lips were Nina's favourite thing, full, and rosy-red, and now, kiss-bitten. Evelyn hummed as Nina pushed her against the wall.
The very skirt that Nina had designed for the model was hiked up around her thighs. Nina let her hands skim beneath the gathered fabric.
Their teeth clacked together and Evelyn tilted her head to the side. The woman's hair was a rich brown, like roasted chestnuts or silk in hickory. Nina would need to design a piece in Evelyn's hair colour, if only so she could recall what it felt like to run her fingers through it. To tug and to take everything from her.
Evelyn was falling apart, slipping down the wall ever so slightly. She was humming something onto Nina's mouth. As though she were praying.
Nina didn't make a habit of ravishing her models, but my-
Then the seamstress heard the chime of the clock. It was quarter-past already. She pulled away, Evelyn's dazed, wide-eyed expression greeting her. The woman's lips were still pursed, even finer than usual.
Maybe Nina needed to make a piece in the colour of her lips, too.
"I have to go." Nina explained, a little breathless herself.
Evelyn's breath was a shudder. "Okay." She said around a swallow.
They both walked into the hallway of Nina's townhouse. It needed renovating, yes. But with a model like Evelyn, the new line would sell itself, and she could afford to redecorate.
"Your sleeve is falling." Nina said as she picked up her keys and coat. From the corner of her eye, Evelyn readjusted herself, patted her cheeks to remove some of their redness.
"Is my hair okay?" She asked and Nina turned.
Giving her a deliberate, long look, Nina said, "absolutely fine, darling. Now chop, chop, I have clients to see."
Evelyn nodded. Good girl. Nina could only imagine how obedient the model would be in bed. "Oh," Evelyn said, stopping short by the door. "Someone handed me this outside." And she drew a letter out of her pocket.
Nina took it and shooed the woman off. She inspected the seal and felt a thrum of intrigue rush through her stomach.
Slicing the envelope open, she let all thoughts of Evelyn's hair and lips and murmuring leave. There was no time to fawn over models. Not when she was already running behind.
And certainly not when Ciel Phantomhive required her services.