"Eh... I know what I just saw..." you confess. "But... nowadays... Sorry, but nobody believes in magic." you tell her.
Trying to avoid staring, you pick out some things for her to wear. Not knowing her sizes, you heave open Emma's drawers, and pull out a baggy jogging outfit.
Annie glories in how smooth, soft and warm they feel. Though there's an uncertain look in her gaze.
"These are mens pants..." her voice uncertain, not wanting to sound puritanical herself. But, clearly emotionally stuggling with these items.
"Times have moved on..." you tell her. Glancing nervously at Emma's door. You don't want to be discovered here.
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