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THUNDER STRIKES THE AIR AHEAD OF THEM, sending rumbles to quake the atmosphere.
Foggy droplet of rain pools at Ophira's heels, splashing with each and every footfall. Their stilettos clamp down upon the concrete of the parking lot, sending droplets to spray along their bare, exposed ankle.
Ophira inclines their head towards Five for a beat of a second, hand subconsciously trailing along the cool droplets that trickle down their face – thank heavens that the remnants of their makeup is water-proof.
"Quick question, why exactly would Delores be in a department store?"
A rare silence falls over Five.
"She's a..."
"...Mannequin."
"So you're telling me..."
A snicker escapes the depths of Ophira's throat at the confirmation, hands wringing the damp locks of their bangs behind the frame of their ear. A smirk twisting the plumpness of their lips. "You got your knob wet for a mannequin?"
