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Pants and a cravat? Oh no, most likely just a cravat, thank you very much. So while Mort made suggestions the witch vaguely zoned out while she imagined just such a thing. What did undead skin taste like anyways?

"Around the arm! Oh yes, I like that very much!" In lieu of liking it the witch flipped to an additional piece of paper and quickly sketched out what just that would look like. And though Belladonna did wish to live in her lovely fantasy land a little longer, it could wait.
"Well, to figure all that out we'd use a pattern." Here Belladonna set her sketchbook back down and turned to face Mort, her 'I'm going to teach you something today!' face on that infected her speaking patterns. "Patterns are made according to size, so whatever size you wear, it will tell us the corresponding amount of fabric we need." It was all so easy, really! "As for metal parts... I'm not entirely sure about that. I think there's a metal works store in the town nearby, but if not I'm sure there is a way to order some offline."
Actually, she wasn't sure of that at all! But she hadn't really tried it out, so why dash his hopes unnecessarily?
"It'll just take some time and a good nose for looking."
Luckily for Mort, this witch was a most action-y sort.

"Metals is something I know nothing about." Was all Belladonna could reply. "Sorry."
Fashion is what she knew. Heck, she didn't even dabble in jewelry making like most fashionistas did. There was just so little time for it! She had plants and pets to attend to!
"But I'll be on the look out for any sort of metals or anything."
Did they have a metal shop on campus? The witch couldn't understand why not. It was an interest she was sure many students shared, so it only seemed appropriate that there would be some sort of venue for which the students could experiment with it. Maybe Mort would just have to start the club himself! That would be delightful, Belladonna was sure, but she'd probably not join. Metal smithing seemed much too masculine for her. Being all hot and sweaty next to the fire... With no shirt on... Hgggnnn...
Well, maybe on second thought...

The popping of joints snapped the witch back to the present and she looked over to Mort with a curious expression. He was saying something-- Oh!
"UM." Try again, Miss Witch. "I think installments would be best. That's h-how most commissions are paid." She managed to stammer out, her cheeks a bright pink. "But usually a down payment is required as well. Its essentially a first installment." Through the blush, Belladonna managed to return the small smile as she looked up at the boil.

A curt nod was Belladonna's reply to the metals comment, with a small inward sigh as she wasn't even sure where to start with the whole metal-working thing.
After a moment of deliberation from Mort, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and the witch scooted forward so that the side of her hip pressed into the side of his. A small thrill began in her chest that bloomed when his head fell against her's and though Belladonna knew he would be leaving soon, there was still plenty of time. This wasn't over, or even the end.
"Of course." She replied in an understanding whisper. Her hands found his free one and softly wrapped themselves around his. She wanted to tell him she knew what it was like, that she wouldn't, no, couldn't let him defeat him. She'd fight his demons and ghosts if she had to, it was the least she could do.

As if for one crystalline moment the witch could read his mind, Belladonna offered him a small smile as she pressed one hand to his cheek.
"And if it gets worse, you call me, ok? I do not care what time it is. You've had a rough day and if you need someone, I'm here." A pause. "I'm not going anywhere." Not anymore.
No more running. No more hiding.
Finally, after what seemed too long, the witch had found a purpose to stay. Through so much turmoil and anguish, all she needed was to find someone who needed her.
In this moment it didn't matter if he only wanted her until the Insanity was gone, she'd be there for him.

"Trouble? What do you mean darling?" Belladonna didn't even bother worrying over whether her pet names bothered him or not. His grip tightened and she brushed her knuckles against his jaw. "I have had a most wonderful day. I can honestly say it has been a very long time since I have been so happy." Another pause. "I wouldn't trade it for the worlds."
And it was true. There was nothing that could squelch this one perfect day.

The look in his eyes worried her, but Belladonna said nothing. She only continued on smiling softly and looking at him with wide eyes. Better than anyone she knew what it was like to have a part of you that couldn't be touched by anyone, no matter who asked to help. Besides, unless he let her in there wasn't much she could do. She had done what she could, offered what she could and now had to leave the rest to him. It was awful and a stress he didn't need, but what else could she do? Flap a hand at him and in a lilting voice claim that it was alright to kiss her but make nothing of it? To laugh it all off as hormones and Insanity?
No matter how much she didn't want to hurt him, there was simply no way Belladonna could do that.

So when he detached himself from her and placed one chaste kiss on her cheek, Belladonna only continued to smile and hoped she had mastered a perfect mask. Even though his 'Won't go anywhere' sounded hollow, the witch could do nothing. Oh, she wanted to, but she only clenched her hands together and continued to smile.
When Lanna hopped off the couch, Belladonna slid from her own perch down onto the floor and bundled Lanna up into her arms for one last hug.
"Be a good girl and keep Mort safe, ok?" She whispered as softly as she could. "If something happens, come get me. I know it was exciting, but I'm sure you can follow Binx's trail." The witch placed a kiss on the foxfire's head, scratched her behind the ears and let her go.

Without waiting for him to let himself out, Belladonna rose and crossed the room to her door. Her fingers twitched in attempt to reclaim that chill they had, as the room felt suddenly too warm. Everything was too close and the one thing she wanted to be close to was too far away.
And no matter how she tried, the witch couldn't stop herself from grabbing Mort in one last hug before she opened the door. And though she tried to stop it more, she still let herself get on tip-toes to place one last soft kiss on his mouth.
"Have a good evening. Get some sleep." She whispered as she lowered herself and let go of him.
Was it supposed to feel like this? Would it always feel like this? Like she had walked so far, only to discover the rest of the path had been blocked and she had to start all over again?

With a shake of her head, Belladonna ceased her pitying thoughts and flashed him one last brilliant smile before he left.

Just as Belladonna realized the hug Mort returned was not the friendly wrap of arms, but something that was edging closer to a nameless thing, he was gone. Out the door and down the hall, with only a small click from the door to signal his leave.
In a voice that startled herself, Belladonna mumbled a soft "Stay where you are."
It took her own voice to keep her from pelting down the hallway after him, but it also was her own voice that broke the dam when she replied with a muffled "Batshit."

With a scream the witch whirled around and kicked the nearest object to her, the sewing basket. Pins and needles and spools of thread flew from it and scattered around the room, but she didn't see them. All she could see was the room as it started to blur.
"This isn't fair!" She shouted to no one, her fists clenched. "Why?!"
A shaking hand found her hair and raked through it, but it did nothing to quell the rise of fear and panic and sheer loathing she felt.
"Why me? Why him?! What is the point of all this?!!"
Had she not tried hard enough? What else could she do that would change whatever fates had decided this for her?

At the idea of fates, the witch darted across her room and wrenched open a desk drawer. With frantic hands she rubbed at her eyes to clear her vision and clumsily grabbed the deck of tarot cards within. Her fingers shook as she awkwardly shuffled them, but it only took one good attempt to bridge them before they sputtered from her. The witch managed to stifle a shout as the cards fluttered from her grasp to fall face up on the floor. They mingled with the needles and thread, but Belladonna managed to spy three that had not landed face down. With an even faster hand she snatched them up and carried them to the middle of her room.
Her heart pounded as she looked at their backs and willed them to be good. With a deep breath she turned them over.

The past were a man and woman locked in a passionate kiss, the present a man whose hair turned into horns and the third was a solemn figure.
The Lovers, The Devil and The Hierophant.
The Lovers were something one couldn't live without, and Belladonna thought she had found that.
The Devil was a person who may be potentially untrustworthy, or extraordinarily helpful.
The Hierophant was a monk who wandered in search of knowledge, alone.

A final, sharp cry exited the witch's mouth as she dropped the cards and lowered herself to the floor. The tears that had threatened her earlier fell with a fierceness the witch had not expected and poured over the three cards that sealed her fate. The pain in her heart hurt so much that she snatched up The Lovers and pressed it to her chest, but it did nothing to soften the blow.
She sobbed loud and alone, her cries sharp and raw. And though the card of hope was pressed to her heart, eventually she let it fall to the floor and rest alongside the others and finally just cried into her hands.

For the third time that day Belladonna experienced something she had not felt for a very long time. It had been ages since she'd cried that hard, or perhaps she never had.
But, along with a thought that had accompanied her often, Belladonna shed tears over the idea that she may very well be alone for the rest of her life.