Reston plumbing

She went up the left arch of stairs, towards the wing that was hers. The right was Barons and Angeliques. She wondered how the blonde she-wolf was getting home, seeing as Baron had not paused in order for her to join them, and then wondered why she cared.

She went into her room. A pretty room, decorated in shades of eggshell blue. Decorations were selected before she had arrived she hated the color herself. It was one of the guest rooms on this wing of the house. Not the mistresses room Angelique slept there, adjoined to Baron through an internal door. This was the room for a wife that was not wanted and was not loved.

She pushed the door closed behind her, her heart racing in her chest, her claws rising and piercing the wood as she inhaled heavily. She leaned against that door, breathing in air, anger fierce within her.

She screamed her angst into a room lit only by the moon through the windows and gripped the dresser against the wall. Its weight would normally be too great for her, but, in her heat, she dragged and shoved it until it was against the door, and then pushed against it every other piece of furniture until there was an obstacle of furnishings between her and the portal, wedging the door firmly shut.

She was sweating, aroused, and frantic after building her blockade, and she shredded the remains of her dress with her claws, before turning on the shower in the cold. She stood, sobbing, and dragging in air, under the frigid flow of water knowing one thing, and one thing alone, that she did not want Baron in her rooms.

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