Sabrina smiled at Harry over breakfast, he returned her smile but he had no idea what she was smiling about.
Last night, she had dreamt about her new persona. She was not even sure she was going to leave, but she dreamed up a persona. She saw herself in the mirror—in Paris—and her hair was the color of the gradient of a dark flame. She wore smoky makeup, and looked very Parisian. She was dressed in a smart suit—without a blouse—and she walked out in the night. There was a bookstore—a librarie—close to the apartment she had walked out of.
The aisles were tiny, Everyone she passed, it was like they were intimate by the time they actually got past each other. And there was one man she could not get past—she could not remember his face in the dream or now. No matter how she tried to get around him, she ended up provocatively closer to her until—well obviously they fucked.
He pulled off her suit jacket, leaving her bare at the top except for suspenders, and he kept pulling them, stinging her breasts. She wrapped her arms about him, and he pushed her against a stack of books that tumbled like a Roman column crumbling. He fucked her over the books, after he pulled her pants down. He was rough, and she liked it.
Astra—the name of her persona—left the bookstore, somehow not looking disheveled at all—it was a dream.
And then she woke up, and now she sat smiling with Harry having breakfast. Him returning her smile…with…no…idea…
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suit via wikipedia
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