Constance hadn't thought twice about sharing her cloak with Imogen, a practical necessity, but as the younger woman's damp body pressed against her she felt something quite unexpected.
She felt her heart rate increasing, her palms become clammy and her muscles tense. Constance stopped herself, it had to be the wine, after all she'd had more than her fair share this evening and surely that quantified a better explanation than being attracted to Imogen, didn't it?
"Is everything alright Miss Hardbroom? You've gone rather…sullen." She looked down at the younger woman, running her eyes across the toned physique below her. "That's really none of your business Miss Drill." The words came out cold and aggressive as she tried to mask her conflicting feelings. She could see the hurt develop across the non-witches face, pursing her lips she retained her stone-faced affront.
"Why were you even out running so late, and in this of all weather?" Constance asked firmly.
"I like to challenge myself." She felt the younger woman's body straighten up as she took pride in her physical fitness regime "Fighting against nature, its exhilarating"
"I'm sure. Still, I can't say it's my preferred way of spending my evenings" Her voice was naturally laced with sarcasm, and she felt the non-witches head tilt up to look towards her. Constance kept her gaze forward, trying to avoid the awkwardness that would ensue if she dared make eye contact.
"Is that so? And where might I ask have you been this evening then Miss Hardbroom?" Imogen's voice was confrontational, as if daring her to tell the truth.
"Again Miss Drill, that's really none of your business."