[ she only gets the briefest of moments to wonder what the strange stick is in his hand before he's pointing it at her dress; she can't help the gasp that leaves her lips as she watches the fabric knit itself together, the seams combining to look like there has never been a tear at all, at least if one doesn't look too closely at the thinner fabric that it leaves behind.
she stares at the hem of her dress, then looking up, her eyes meeting his. ]
That... did you make it do that? [ how did you do that is what she means, but doesn't quite manage to ask it. ]
no subject
she stares at the hem of her dress, then looking up, her eyes meeting his. ]
That... did you make it do that? [ how did you do that is what she means, but doesn't quite manage to ask it. ]