A little bit of fun on my part.
Winter night. Rain. Two shiny black stilettos glinting slightly whenever the light fell on them. Clipping down the hallway in almost a staccato fashion, the sound reverberating down the hall but unheard for the rain beating down outside. They turned a corner, heading down a lesser corridor tiled in white. The legs in the stilettos were clothed in black tights that did nothing but look good.
A door opened and the mean black shoes stepped in to the light. There was no one else in the room though. She shuffled in her coat –thick wool, black, knee-length – and drew her scarf up over her mouth a bit more. No, the person she needed to see was further along, through the other door in this room. Drawing her fur cap down a little more over her long black hair, she took her lovely, tall body over to the handle. She laid a gloved hand –white– on it, and pushed the door open.
At a desk near the window, a man was hunched over, tinkering with something mechanical. A pocket watch it seemed. He was too busy, and the rain too loud, that the opening of the door went unheeded. The tall lady, closing the door ever so gently, spoke.
"William." Her voice smooth and a little dreamy (though somewhat deep I might add). The man, who was indeed named William, spun around in his seat in surprise at his visitor.
"Isaak?! What-" He didn't get far. The lady, now known to be Isaak, removed one of her precious silk gloves and struck William across his left cheek.
"Isaak! Why did you do that?! Why are you here anyway, and in those clothes?" William was astounded (for many different reasons), and in a little bit of pain too. But if he was hoping for a straight answer from his cross-dressing visitor then he didn't get it.
"Good night." Isaak giggled slightly, coquettishly holding his hand to his lips. As he turned on his stiletto heels to run away, he was already planning the next interruption on William's time. Keep him guessing, Isaak thought.
Anyone waiting for updates on my other fics will have to wait for a long time. Sorry.
Isaak sometimes strikes me as the cross-dressing type.