( the room does suddenly entirely too small, perhaps because wanda wasn't half expecting him to stand and go through the motions of unbuckling his belt. but, then, what exactly did she expect? her eyes follow his hands and the motion of the unbuckling for a few seconds too long, and she catches herself—looking away.

he's a handsome guy, and the situation could definitely be misconstrued for something else, any other time. )

Yeah. ( anyway, ) Don't call me 'lady' either, makes me feel old.

( she doesn't need more scraps of cloth, but she's pretending to be busy, looking through her pouch of miscellaneous materials. hating that this feels stiff and awkward, she stands, her back to him, and sets down her selected cloths; hands push locks of hair behind her ears as she goes about the drawers on the side table to find her sewing kit. )

I used to mend my brother's clothes a lot. He always grew out of them, or he ruined them by doing stupid things.