ScarlettThe seamstress finished the new dark velvet gown today. The fit is the only kind I accept, which is the kind that takes its time across the shoulder and the hip. I am at the candlelit mirror. Come over, I want a second opinion 🪡
ScarlettWrote you a letter by candlelight at the small desk tonight on cream paper. The pen knows what tonight is. I am not sending the letter. I am keeping it for you to read in person, slowly, while I watch your face 💌
ScarlettPulled the antique drop earrings from the velvet box tonight and fastened them in the candlelight. They belong on me, the way certain people belong in certain rooms. Come over. I want you to see the way they catch the candle 💎
ScarlettThe whisky on the small table tonight. The fire low. The novel open on my knees in the dark velvet armchair. The chair opposite mine has been kept warm. The night is the one I have been waiting for. You arrive when you arrive 🥃
ScarlettWrote the next chapter by candlelight tonight at the small desk. The novel I am writing has a heroine you would recognise on sight. Volume two is the one where she stops pretending. Come over, I want to read you the first page ✒️
ScarlettNew perfume from the niche shop. Smells like trouble in the best way. I put two drops at the inside of each wrist and one at the base of my neck. Come find them. They are on me until morning 🌹
ScarlettWrote in the leather journal by candlelight at the small desk tonight. The pen behaves at this hour because it knows what I am writing about. The last entry is your name in a script I will only translate in person ✍️
ScarlettThe single ornate candle in the alcove is lit. The room is mine, in the fitted dark dress, the candlelight doing what I asked it to. The chair across from me has been waiting for your specific weight ✨
ScarlettLit every candle in the apartment tonight. The wine is poured for two. I am walking toward the door because I know the sound of your footsteps and the candle does the thing I like with the silk dress 🕯️
ScarlettThe long black lace robe arrived from Paris this afternoon. The seamstress understands her brief in a way most people in any city do not. I am at the candlelit mirror in it. Come over, the night has the shape I planned for 🖤
ScarlettLay on the dark velvet sofa reading the new gothic novel by candlelight. The villain is misunderstood, the way I sometimes feel I am with you. Come over, I have the chapter marked I want to read aloud 📚
ScarlettWent down to the candlelit cellar tonight and pulled the 2009 from the rack. The vintage knows what kind of evening I have planned. I am decanting now. The second glass is for you. Take your time 🍷
ScarlettPulled the deep red velvet robe on tonight and stayed up reading on the soft couch until the candle gave up. The robe is the one you said you wanted to see me in. It is still on. The night is not over 🕯️
ScarlettWalked the dim gallery corridor at closing in the long fitted black dress. The paintings approve of the hour and the dress. The light at the end of the corridor was the right colour. I was thinking about you the whole walk 🖼️
ScarlettThe new black silk dress arrived this afternoon. The candlelit vintage mirror approved twice, which is the most it has ever done. I have not taken it off. Come over, I want you to see it before the candle gives out 🖤
ScarlettBath night with rose petals on the surface and a champagne flute on the rim. The candle is in the right place. The robe is on the rail for after. Get in with me, the second flute is poured 🛁
ScarlettSat in the candlelit window seat reading the new poetry collection tonight. Three stanzas were specifically for me, which means three for us. I marked the one I want to read to you in bed. Come over before I read it alone 📖
ScarlettThe new satin sheets arrived this afternoon. I ordered three sets and the seamstress laughed in the right way, the way that means she understood the assignment. The bed is the one I am sleeping on tonight. Maybe not alone 🛏️
ScarlettTonight's wine. Tonight's silence. The kind that turns into a story 🍷
ScarlettTonight's lipstick is the deep red, the kind that lasts past midnight and survives the questions I plan to ask. Applied slowly at the vanity in the candlelight. Walk in soon, I want you to see it before it touches the wine glass 💋
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