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The cat is out of the bag.
Aug. 1st, 2017 09:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morevacantIt takes Lydia some time to cool down after Mogget's revelations about Cesare.
It takes a smashed plate, several ripped photos and her holding her Louboutins over the dustbin (she couldn't let them go: the shoes don't deserve to suffer because of Cesare's actions) before she gets it together enough to text Cesare.
We need to talk. 10 minutes. You know where. (angry face, angry face)
Then she goes to the hotel, and stomps up to the room where they always meet, door slamming as she enters. Nobody stops her. The staff know Miss Lydia by now. By the time Cesare arrives, she's sat on the edge of the bed, scowling.
"I am gonna kill you, Cesare Borgia," she snaps.
It takes a smashed plate, several ripped photos and her holding her Louboutins over the dustbin (she couldn't let them go: the shoes don't deserve to suffer because of Cesare's actions) before she gets it together enough to text Cesare.
We need to talk. 10 minutes. You know where. (angry face, angry face)
Then she goes to the hotel, and stomps up to the room where they always meet, door slamming as she enters. Nobody stops her. The staff know Miss Lydia by now. By the time Cesare arrives, she's sat on the edge of the bed, scowling.
"I am gonna kill you, Cesare Borgia," she snaps.
