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ayame-sohma

“What are you fussing about?” Ayame chirped at the seamstress from his own machine across the room. The never ending drum of his sewing machine had quieted as he peeked over to Mine. It was fairly late already, and without realizing it the two of them had worked to nearly midnight.

✿— Mine looked up from the assortment of thread she had lain out, sighing and gathering everything up before standing up and trotting over to Ayame. “Tohru trusted me to help make her dress for the upcoming dance, and I want it to be perfect.” She set the spindles of thread down on the table before curiously peeking at what the other was working on. “Is that Tuesday’s order?”