Lorcan had lost track of time of how long it had been since he'd last visited the Backus bakery - Hogsmeade was quite out of his way, after all. Still, he'd thought about it passing a bakery after work yesterday in London, and resolved to stop by today. Naturally, he'd stopped bothering to feign that he only visited for their baked goods (good as they were); by this point, he mostly came to see Maggie, and loiter around talking to her awhile.
He'd spotted her through the front windows, but she seemed too absorbed in her cleaning to notice him. The shop looked quite empty though, which meant he'd picked a good time to come by!
...Or not, judging by the force with which she'd just slammed down that bucket. Lorcan's mouth was open with a greeting on the tip of his tongue, but nothing came out just yet, as instead he surveyed her for more signs of her bad temper, or perhaps a clue as to what had brought it on.
There was a chance to sneak out now, while her back was turned - but Lorcan imagined he might be impervious to her grumpiness. Maybe he'd even be able to cure it. So, he sauntered over to the counter anyway, patient and chipper.
"What's the matter, Cinderella?" He wasn't sure when the nickname had progressed from something in his head to something he called her, but she'd certainly looked the part today, with all that scrubbing. A grin crept onto his face. "You look like someone's not letting you go to the ball."
He'd spotted her through the front windows, but she seemed too absorbed in her cleaning to notice him. The shop looked quite empty though, which meant he'd picked a good time to come by!
...Or not, judging by the force with which she'd just slammed down that bucket. Lorcan's mouth was open with a greeting on the tip of his tongue, but nothing came out just yet, as instead he surveyed her for more signs of her bad temper, or perhaps a clue as to what had brought it on.
There was a chance to sneak out now, while her back was turned - but Lorcan imagined he might be impervious to her grumpiness. Maybe he'd even be able to cure it. So, he sauntered over to the counter anyway, patient and chipper.
"What's the matter, Cinderella?" He wasn't sure when the nickname had progressed from something in his head to something he called her, but she'd certainly looked the part today, with all that scrubbing. A grin crept onto his face. "You look like someone's not letting you go to the ball."
