Patrick wasn't exactly faring all that well himself - in the midst of bar-crawling his way through every place in London where he knew of or had worked with any of the staff or management, he'd managed to forget that he had (so, so stupidly) scheduled himself to work the early morning shift on New Year's Day. Surely there had been some kind of reasoning behind it, but as he dragged his painfully hungover (a rather unfamiliar sensation, made all that more painful by its rarity) self around the back of the bar, prepping the bottles of champagne and orange juice he knew would start getting requested soon, he genuinely couldn't remember what it had been
( ... )
Marlow heard the voice, deep and Irish, before lifting her head up. When she took in his face, all blue eyes and blond scruff, her lips parted. She brushed her hand through her hair, her curls a bit wild, and leaned back into her stool, trying for the life of her not to look like she'd been carried out (or in, she supposed) with the morning trash, even if she felt like her head was in a vice grip.
He was rather handsome, anyone with two eyes could tell you that, and here she was wild hair, no make-up and a sweater two sizes too big. She could have made a bit more of an effort when she readied herself that morning but she was finding it difficult what with most of her things boxed up.
"Bloody Mary?" she asked, offering him a hapless shrug of her shoulders.
Pat had automatically started reaching for a glass and the vodka stashed under the ledge of the counter before she'd even wrapped up the phrase (there were only so many ways an order starting with 'bloody-' could go, really), allowing his eyes to properly take in the sight of her as his hands went about their business on their own. She looked about as rough as he felt, to be honest, though he had nothing against the ruffled-hair and comfortably-dressed look. Clearly he hadn't been the only one to enjoy the previous night.
He slid the finished drink towards her across the counter, ice cubes clinking around the branch of celery that stuck out from the glass. "Happy New Year," he offered as he leaned back, wiping his hand on the rag he had tucked inside his belt in lieu of an actual apron.
She watched him as he worked, her eyes fixated on his hands. They were meticulous in their movements. Marlow had mixed enough potions in her short lifetime to know what it took to get to the point where you didn't even have to look down anymore (she was much the same with Lupin's wolfsbane). She was rather impressed, her Bloody Marys very important to her.
She cupped the glass in her hand as she smiled, glancing back up at him now.
"Thanks-" she said, gesturing to the glass. "You too- It must suck to have to work today, yeah?"
Though, by the looks of the place, at least he wouldn't be very busy.
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He was rather handsome, anyone with two eyes could tell you that, and here she was wild hair, no make-up and a sweater two sizes too big. She could have made a bit more of an effort when she readied herself that morning but she was finding it difficult what with most of her things boxed up.
"Bloody Mary?" she asked, offering him a hapless shrug of her shoulders.
Reply
He slid the finished drink towards her across the counter, ice cubes clinking around the branch of celery that stuck out from the glass. "Happy New Year," he offered as he leaned back, wiping his hand on the rag he had tucked inside his belt in lieu of an actual apron.
Reply
She cupped the glass in her hand as she smiled, glancing back up at him now.
"Thanks-" she said, gesturing to the glass. "You too- It must suck to have to work today, yeah?"
Though, by the looks of the place, at least he wouldn't be very busy.
Reply
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