n o v a (incomplete)

e i g h t

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e i g h t

Sonya's current office is beautiful in a medieval type of way – though, she herself would disagree.

Nova can see why Sonya wanted a new one, her eyes shuffling between the woman and her workspace, two very different personalities. The office was ancient in the sense of style, holding a more traditional and rustic style, whereas Sonya was anything but.

The dark-haired female instead imagines her as a ray of sunshine, with energy that is physically unable to be contained. She seemed a little restricted here, suffocated even. It's dark, broody, where Sonya was open and bright.

She was sure Sonya was artistic, her intuition telling her much. 

It's confirmed when Sonya launches into conversation about her own aspirations, beckoning Nova to look at her fashion designs – she launched her own beauty brand years back, one Nova recognises very well.

They both mill around in this space a little, Nova's mocha eyes running over every inch of the space carefully, trying to pinpoint Sonya's dislikes about it.

She'd get a chance to ask later; they just had made a pit stop so Nova could get her camera and notepad from the bag that she had brought and was moved here. She's successfully retrieved both items, Sonya engaging her with a little small talk.

Any awkwardness – which was a lot – from Nova's end is covered up , Sonya either not acknowledging or not realising, probably both, and continuing on the conversation with ease. Nova only wishes she were as talented as that. She considered herself to be socially inept at times.

As they lurk around, Sonya explaining what exactly her envision was for her career, the door of the office opens, revealing a short woman.

"Clarissa," Sonya greets, a smile. The woman nods, mouth opening with a small bow.

"Lu-,"

Sonya talks over her hurriedly.

"Clarissa darling, Nova has been here a while and I think it'd be best if we got her something to drink and something to eat," she says, tone kind. The woman finally realises the second presence here, a polite greeting sent her way.

"Of course. Do you have any preferences?" she asks. Nova doesn't answer for a moment, playing with the strap of her camera.

"I'm quite okay actually. Please don't go to the hassle-," Sonya interrupts.

"Get her a selection of drinks and a small spread of snacks– go light please. I'll have a brandy," Sonya grins, before a voice interrupts them both.

"Not before noon," it's stern.

Nova's eyes find Sonya's husband in the office too. Her brows furrow, not having heard or noticed his presence, but he must have been here for some time, rummaging through a drawer behind them. He finds what he needs, a file of some sort.

His eyes are hard when they fall to Sonya.

She scoffs, arms coming to her waist and lips in a pout.

"It'll be fine, I promise," her voice turns small in an attempt to soften him up. Her husband doesn't budge, eyes flickering. Nova covers her smile at their interaction with her hands.