She let out a huff. The room was a light lavender color, one she didn't remember picking out, but she had never minded it. If her mother was good at one thing, it was decorating. Whether it be a room, her house, her own attire or her daughter's, Emmeline's mother had impeccable taste that couldn't be denied. If she'd spent more time paying attention to the little girl residing in the room, this might have been a more admirable trait, but Emmeline just found it tedious and distracting. There were more important things than whether the curtains matched the pillow covers.
"It had some personality," she snipped, a smile quirking up on her face as she recalled the various posters and books that had been strewn across the room. "Now it's just an obnoxious mirror and a bed with ugly sheets in a dimly lit purple room."
Emmeline let out a breath from her nose as her grip around him tightened. She'd rather that they stood here and made fun of her room and any remnants of her childhood than discuss the war raging outside. The Order was running thing on evidence and leads, and there was only so much they themselves could do without giving Caradoc's whereabouts up. Emmeline would give anything to hop on another train with Caradoc and feel no remorse about leaving England and everyone behind. But she couldn't do that, she would be ridden with guilt, so for now it was time to ignore the panic inside of her.
"I don't think I ever brought a boy up here," she mused, eyes shutting as she reveled in being flush against Caradoc.
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