Frederic Chopin let out a groan, louder than the Witch's.
The young Composer lived a simple life. Even at the age of 17, no one would have thought he would ever become a prodigy at the ivory keys; nor fathomed he would go on to produce over 230 Waltz, Nocturnes, Polonaises, Etudes, Impromptus, Scherzos, Preludes, Sonata, and Folk Music that would change the musical history of the world and the future generations.....
However, in this fiction, he never thought he would regret taking in a Witch who was fleeing from the Witch Trials in the nation she had fled from.
The only thing he remembered from that fateful encounter, was how much this same Freeloading Lazy Witch once begged for him to stay quiet as to where she was hiding from her spiteful pursuers
Trembling inside of a compost barrel.
"......................."
"... Chop-Chop. Look at my bosoms, so I can say that sassy line!"
"Nie..."
"... O-oh my god, Ch-Chop-Chop. Did you... just proposed to me in Polish!?"
"I said 'No' in Polish. So please, put some clothing back on before the boys come back from school."
"Tch."
The Witch made an audible scowl as she waved her arms around to look for something to cover her bare body.... Weave is too open - nope.
As much as she is aware of the killing technique, the 'Apron Attack', that wasn't the plan for today. No, she genuinely had a bubble bath... but forgot to prepare a towel for her to dry off with afterwards.
She knew hollering at her 'host' would not make him budge to help her. So, she did what most brave female warriors would do in a crisis like this.
Walk out of the shower, to find a towel in another room... hopefully running into no one.
...If said heroine ran into their cute lesbian room-mate - GAME OVER♥.
.....
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