I'm a whole lotta woman
, from the way I walk and toss my hips.
I'm a whole lotta woman, from the sound to my voice to the gloss on my lips. I'm a whole lotta woman, anything I see, I want, I get.
I'm a strong, badass chick, with class and confidence, yeah.
“Listen English is my second language alright? Stop making all your words seem similar then!” tito answered, per usual in his thick accent. “estúpida puerta de culo. ¿Por qué no abrirlo en ambos sentidos? eso sería más inteligente. mujer arrogante.” the small man mumbled under his breath. “Well mrs. know it all? you coming in or what?” he asked holding it for her.
“Puedo hablar español.” Mirage raised an eyebrow at him, walking in through the door. She spoke a few languages – her parents had sent her to one of the most expensive boarding schools around. “Being cocky is better than being meek.” She watched the man walk in behind her, then gestured to the coffee shop board. “Can I get you anything? A thank you for holding the door. Also, I’m not a know-it-all. I just know more things than most,” she said, her tone teasing.
Cruella was looking down at her phone when the women’s voice rang out, looking up she couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the idiot of a person she shamed couldn’t even properly read the door they were trying to enter through. She smirked softly taking the open door as an opportunity cutting over the half-dead zombie the women had been chatting up “Why to thank you, it’s always a pain to grab the door oneself.”
“You’re welcome,” Mirage replied, giving the woman a smile. When the guy she’d been talking to didn’t bother to walk through the door, she shrugged her shoulders and walked in behind the stranger. “Suit yourself,” she mumbled under her breath. “Some of the people here act like they’re living in a fantasy land,” she commented, looking up at the coffee shop menu boards behind the counter. She’d probably just get an espresso like she usually did – working all night made for very long days.
❝When I’m with you, I don’t feel so alone.❞ // @ofscreenslaving
As unexpected as Evelyn’s words were, Mirage was pleased to hear them. After finding herself in a rather tumultuous relationship with Syndrome in the past, it was nice to have something with someone who appreciated her. Someone who didn’t want to sacrifice her to save themselves. “The feeling is very mutual, Eve,” she replied, placing a hand on the woman’s forearm and squeezing it gently. Mirage wasn’t sure what they were to each other, but she definitely saw the other woman as something more than a friend. Feelings and relationships were tricky, though, and so was this new town. “Misery loves company,” she teased, withdrawing her hand and reaching for the bottle of bourbon on her coffee table. “Another drink?” she asked.
“You’re wasting your time,” Mirage drawled, watching someone pushing the coffee shop door when they should’ve been pulling. “Want to know why?” she asked, not waiting for them to answer before continuing, a cocky smile on her face. “Because you clearly can’t read.” The woman pointed to the sign, then pushed the door for them. “You’re welcome.”