RP: Hungry?
Date: January 20, 2006
Characters: Orla and George
Location: The Apothecary
Status: Semi-Private
Summary: Orla tries to keep her promise. Hard to say how well she'll succeed.
Completion: InComplete
Orla hurried along, the wind chilling through her coat and scarf, and she moved faster, IT was Sunday, so she didn't think George would be at work, but when she stopped by his apartment, picnic basket in tow, she knocked and he didn't answer. Taking another risk (Michael would have been so proud of her), she knocked at Fred's door, only to find George was at the shop, working on the sleeping potion. So off she went, forgetting she could apparate in her distraction.
She got to the apothecary, and paused, biting her lip as she remembered how awkward it had been when he left the next morning, regardless of how wonderful that night had been. She felt a bit dumb, getting so caught up in sex, even good sex, but like all things emotional, she'd fixated and blown it all out of proportion, It likely wasn't a big deal at all. No reason why she can't be just his friend like she promised. After all, she'd fixated on him for so long, now that the itch was scratched, or the curiosity satisfied, so to speak, there was nothing to draw her to him in such an overwhelming way.
She knocked on the door, hoping he'd hear. It was closed to the public, but she didn't doubt there was some security charm on the place that would jinx her sideways. She saw him peek his head out from a back room, and she was glad to have caught his attention. When he opened the door, she raised the basket with a smile. "Lunch for the hardworking apothecary and jokester, who likely hasn't eaten since breakfast."
Characters: Orla and George
Location: The Apothecary
Status: Semi-Private
Summary: Orla tries to keep her promise. Hard to say how well she'll succeed.
Completion: InComplete
Orla hurried along, the wind chilling through her coat and scarf, and she moved faster, IT was Sunday, so she didn't think George would be at work, but when she stopped by his apartment, picnic basket in tow, she knocked and he didn't answer. Taking another risk (Michael would have been so proud of her), she knocked at Fred's door, only to find George was at the shop, working on the sleeping potion. So off she went, forgetting she could apparate in her distraction.
She got to the apothecary, and paused, biting her lip as she remembered how awkward it had been when he left the next morning, regardless of how wonderful that night had been. She felt a bit dumb, getting so caught up in sex, even good sex, but like all things emotional, she'd fixated and blown it all out of proportion, It likely wasn't a big deal at all. No reason why she can't be just his friend like she promised. After all, she'd fixated on him for so long, now that the itch was scratched, or the curiosity satisfied, so to speak, there was nothing to draw her to him in such an overwhelming way.
She knocked on the door, hoping he'd hear. It was closed to the public, but she didn't doubt there was some security charm on the place that would jinx her sideways. She saw him peek his head out from a back room, and she was glad to have caught his attention. When he opened the door, she raised the basket with a smile. "Lunch for the hardworking apothecary and jokester, who likely hasn't eaten since breakfast."