<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">The faithful guise of night had fallen upon Chicago's fringes, who internal workings continued to hum with an unending fervor; devout minions, still scurrying to and fro, congested the sidewalks even in the darkness. From a quaint, log cabin, tucked amid aromatic oak and pine, one could still discern those burning lights, the ethereal flames twinkling against a silvery sky.<br/><br/>There, rested upon the cushioned windowsill, Blaire sat, wistfully gleaning any morsels of brightness from the rigid, twisting branches obscuring the view. Tender curls relaxed about similarly relaxed shoulders. That delicate brownness-- only a nuance or two from a dirty blonde-- enveloped her soft features, like the fragrant petals encircling a grinning sunflower.<br/><br/>"Gosh, sis, is that what you're wearing?"<br/><br/>Stepping into the quiet living room, Dustan-- delightfully handsome in a simple T-shirt alongside dark-washed denims--beckoned to the recumbent sibling, a goofy smile plastered on his smooth face. She, calm cheeks immediately adopting their usual radiance, sprang up to greet the elder brother; into the offered embrace Blaire floated, letting strong arms pull her closer and masculine hands, no permission needed, tighten onto slender hips. Woodsy cologne swathed both nostrils--the lingering hints of pine and earth remained as she shifted, adjusting against that sweltering chest.<br/><br/>Fiery, yet playful, tawny orbs gazed up, catching hold of the male's equally intense, green eyes. <br/><br/>"Uh, what do you want me to do? Go to the restaurant in jeans?"<br/><br/>A silken blouse, rich purple fabric held together by golden thread, clung fast to the slim anatomy underneath, whereas a mildly short skirt, clinched close against trim legs, was the perfect contrast. Prada, in essence, was a big, fat 'nada' for this chick--labels didn't matter, why should they? Such trivial pursuits were of no importance...Love, dedication, loyalty...they all held a higher place in her nonconformist heart than Gucci and designer shades. <br/><br/>Dustan chuckled as one hand moved upward, its digits now frolicking amongst those inviting tresses. "Jeez, I'm kidding!" Head dipping down, familiar lips confirmed his conviction with an affectionate kiss on that concerned forehead. "Sweetie, you look beautiful…Hey, you actually wore high-heels! I <em>might</em> have to take a picture."<br/><br/>Yes, indeed, the self-proclaimed tomboy had somehow shoved her feet into a respectable pair of heels; the glossy, obsidian shoes definitely were a change from the beloved Adidas kicks. They sorrowfully lay in their respective bed for the evening. <br/><br/>She groaned, slipping out of the enduring hug to pull the jocular boy towards the door. "Thanks, bro, and you look like hot shit. Ha! Can we go <em>nowww</em>? I'm really hungry!"<br/><br/>"Alright, alright. Let's go."<br/>---<br/>Now amid the iridescent, urban glow, en route to an elegant eatery on Fifth and West Hollow, the pair suddenly stopped when Blaire abruptly shrieked,<br/><br/>"<strong>Damn</strong>! Dusty, I've got a research paper due tomorrow…Uhhh. Can you go to the restaurant while I grab a book for the project? I promise I'll run!"<br/><br/>Emerald irises narrowed; a brotherly protectiveness arose, obviously apparent in the stiffening of his posture. "Go to the one right down the block…Make sure your cell phone's on." He rubbed his throbbing temples while continuing, "Please, <em>please</em> be careful, baby. I've just got a bad fee--never mind! <strong>GO</strong>!"<br/><br/>She nodded, and then scurried down the street. Tripping on the third pace, Blaire nearly dove into a passerby. "God, this is why I don't wear these revolting things…" Pride only bruised, the female persisted, the bookstore still a ways off. </span><br/>