Closing Time Tea {Open}

[monaco]

The setting sun’s rays managed to tenaciously still pass through a few panes of the store’s front window, signifying the end of the day for Granor, so that soon most of the stores, shops, and markets would be closing their doors and their patrons and owners heading home. This was the norm of everyday, for most. Adèlie too, like her fellow shop owners, was beginning to close for the day: putting away books back onto shelves, taking out her frequently used duster and giving the bookstore one final, though thorough, dusting to take advantage of the slowness of the end of the day, tidying in general. It didn’t matter if she was tired or eager to get home, the woman was precise and took her tidiness quite seriously, plus the fact that she couldn’t exactly go home, even once she’s locked up and left. With the end of the day, came night, and with night came Adèlie’s second job, located elsewhere in the city.

Until then, there was still plenty more she could do and she noted the mental list in her head as she did task after task keeping an eye on the front door, because one never knows when that last customer could come in, deciding that it was a good idea to go book shopping at closing time. Picking up a taller stack of books, she made it halfway to the bookshelf she was headed for before she stopped and sighed. A wave of exhaustion hit her, as it usually did around this time, and she fought off the urge to yawn, before continuing on her journey and commenced to return the books to their proper places. With that done, the dancer crossed her arms and stared at the numerous titles of the volumes, procrastinating in moving on to her next chore. Frowning and slightly dreading having to do anymore at that time, she turned slowly to gaze out of the window onto the darkening street of the Trade District.

“They’ll be lighting the lamps soon…”she spoke softly, thoughtfully. There was still a good half-hour before she could actually lock up and, upon thinking about it, she didn’t have much left to do. Weighing her options but in the end it was a large yawn that helped steer her decision, Adèlie went to the little stove in the back and put on the kettle, still full of water form when she had filled it earlier, and lighted the fire so that the water would come to a boil. A couple cups of tea should be enough for her to get through her busy night. Leaning back against the wall behind her, the woman looked back towards the front door, half-expecting for someone to walk in and half-hoping that they didn’t at the same time.

[Berwald Oxenstierna]

The sky painted bold shades of orange and red across every surface they touched, transforming the everyday sights of the trade district into wondrous things that seemed to come from the pages of a storybook. Business owners and employees could be seen through meticulously kept windows as they packed up and cleaned anything less than spotless before finally,heading home for the night. For the large man making his way down the streets this wasn't the case. He knew the routines of packing up for the night after a hard days work but he still had a few things to do before he went back home. Just the thought of doing so however sent waves of exhaustion coursing through him and pain to settle in his lower back and arm. Raising it slightly to glance at it Berwald grimaced at the bandages adorning his palm up his wrist before disappearing under his baggy sleeve, hiding the fact they almost reached his shoulder. His shoulders slumped and he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. At least he knew his client's whole roof needed to be redone instead of the small patch that had been leaking. The only thing he could complain about was the way he found out it needed to be replaced.

Pushing away thoughts of work and business to instead focus on the task at hand- and mentally berating himself for such a tasteless joke- Berwald thought of all the things he needed to do. Go to the lumber yard and negotiate prices for the wood required to fix the roof, do the same thing to replace the protective tiles that went on top of the wood since the amount he had was definitely not enough, buy a few books for his hobbies, check his newest shipments of illegal weapon parts and possibly plant the seeds of fear into dealers trying to pull a fast one. Releasing a long suffering sigh and pausing in his steps to massage his temples, Berwald wondered when his lifestyle would finally catch up with his health. He considered it a miracle he was still as healthy as an ox considering the stress his jobs could place on his shoulders.

Straightening himself out and opting to go with the more enjoyable of his tasks Berwald made his way to a bookstore he had passed on more than one occasion. It always looked so well kept and tidy. Obviously the owner knew how to run a business. Musing to himself how they might react to seeing his workshop on a lazy day as he approached the store Berwald wondered if it was still even open. The windows weren't dark yet so taking that as a sign whoever was inside hadn't closed shop yet he pushed open the door and stepped into the impeccably clean store.

[monaco]

The bell above the door rang and Adèlie’s eyes flickered with surprise; oh gosh, she almost fell asleep! Thankfully, she had managed to set down her teacup so there was no mess for her to worry or fret about in front of a customer. Speaking of which, the woman stood just as a huge form entered through her door and she had to blink to realize that it was in fact all one person. The man was rather quite handsome, with blonde hair, glasses before his blue eyes, but his expression made his large physique even more intimating, because he was rather stern looking. Still, he was a customer nevertheless so Adèlie approached him courteously and nodded her head in greeting a smile upon her lips.

“Good evening, sir! Please let me know if you are looking for anything in particular or if your simply here to browse, please do no hesitate to ask”.

The girl’s method to being a good shopkeeper was not to hound her customers or hover around the,, it was not only rude but rather discomforting. No, her method was to give people their space and if they needed or wanted help, she was there for them. She gave the tall man another sweet smile before going over to her front display to once more make sure that they were all straight before she took back her tea to finish the last, cool sip as she gazed once more out of the window, watching people pass by for a moment or two before she looked over her shoulder to check upon her lone customer, who was rather quite she might add.

[Berwald Oxenstierna]

At the obviously feminine voice that rang out Berwald snapped his gaze down..... and down at the woman who stood before him. He could already feel the burning sensation of his muscles forced into a painful position. How he truly hated his height at times like this. Nevertheless the woman who smiled at him was rather attractive. Small and soft, womanly in all aspects. Someone people would turn to in a time of need. Someone his exact opposite. Where he could scare someone senseless with so much as a side long glance there was no doubt in Berwald's mind that the woman he was looking at could encourage people to rise to their fullest potential with even the smallest of smiles. She was someone he would have aspired to be as a child.

Blinking slowly as his mind got off topic and looking around the store Berwald was mildly taken aback by the sheer number of books that fit inside the modest shop. It was unreal to say the least and he was starting to doubt the ease of his task. Squaring his shoulders and locking eyes with the nearest display of books he strode over to investigate what they were about. Gingerly picking up a cover in his over sized hands (it was comical actually, once he thought about it) he inspected the cover and blinked before having to readjust his glasses. The title was decidedly not in English so he slid it back into place to browse another shelf.

Surprise, surprise, the next shelf wasn't what he was looking for either. It consisted of a smattering of historical fiction among the true fiction. Wandering over to the next display he became mildly displaced upon discovering the rows of romance novels. Appealing but still not what he was looking for. Reading of few of the summaries and picking up the ones he found interesting (a total of four for the moment) the burly man glanced toward the woman but quickly looked away with an imperceptible tint to his cheeks when their eyes met. Clearing his throat as he determinedly stared in the opposite direction, Berwald raised his voice from it's usual inaudible rumble and was discouraged when it didn't become much louder than normal. "Ah m'y need s'me h'lp findin' what 'm lookin' for."

[monaco]

She blinked at his show of shyness, but instead of smiling of thinking it funny, she left him to his own and went over to another area to begin straightening that as well. In her head she hummed a soft tune, though no notes swept past her lips, but she couldn't stay focused. Her gaze repetitively slid back out at the window and she watched how the sun was dipping more and more beneath the horizon and with it the acknowledgment that her work day was only half over. sighing softly, she slipped off her glasses to rub the bridge of her nose.

"Ah m'y need s'me h'lp findin' what 'm lookin' for."

A deep though quiet voice broke the silence and Adèlie looked up and leaned over to look back to where her customer was standing in between her bookshelves. With her glasses off, sh couldn't see him that well so she replaced the spectacles as she came over, painting a smile upon her lips more before she stopped a couple feet away from him. "Absolutely, sir. What, pray tell, were you looking for..." She spoke as she began to point out genres but in order to do so, she had to slip by him, expressing a flustered, "Excuse me", but the man was so... burly that even with her petite physique, her back grazed his body and it sent a shiver up her spine; once more she apologized.

Slightly flustered with a colouring of her cheeks, she continued her tour, pointing out, Adventure, Horror, Fantasy, Historical, Romance, and so on and so forth. After a moment, she clasped her hands together and looked back up at him. "Or were you looking for a specific title?" She looked at him, politely, waiting for an answer, and she thought about how he had spoken and his general demeanour. He wans't like other men she had seen his size, and she was well used to being around brawny, manly men because they were her top patrons when she danced, but his face was one she had not seen before.... he seemed reserved, shy, like herself.

[Berwald Oxenstierna]

Daunted as the blonde woman easily rattled off the genres of sections without hesitation, Berwald felt his eyebrow twitch in pain. A migrane that had been threatening Berwald since this morning reared it's head and on instinct he pushed up his glasses to rub his face with his bandaged hand. The influx of information was not what he had needed. How she had remembered all of that was incredible. He guessed it was like him and the way he could list almost every wood used for construction and any notable uses for it. Though hers was far more impressive. And orderly.

When she brushed by him with an apology he was unperturbed by their proximity and trailed after her, eyes following where she pointed. Even with all the options she still hadn't crossed what he was looking for. Maybe she didn't have anything on the subject? Though that would make this a very poorly stocked store and he knew that it wasn't. Locking eyes with the shorter of the duo and hoping his expression didn't appear more intimidating than usual (a far cry considering his arm and head) Berwald piped up once again. " 'm lookin' fer somethin' on flow'rs. Gardenin' actu'lly."

[monaco]

She physically was tacken aback by his request; well now, she hadn't quite expected that. She trailed her eyes subtly back over him, as if seeing him for the first time, and for the first time that day, she actually smiled a real smile.

"Gardening? Well sir, I'm afraid you've stumbled upon a personal favorite of mine, flowers that is. My mother was a florist so I have a shelf filled with books on species, properties care, and anything else. Just... follow me please".

She nodded and turned to lead him to another shelf, this one tinted green and it fell under the Natural Care section of her store and she pointed out the books on flowers, many of which she had read herself. "I do have a fairly good knowledge on the topic, my mother taught me practically everything she know you see. So please, don't hesitate to ask any question". She offered him another smile, and started to fix up a few book on a shelf not too far away because she noticed a few titles out of order. Odd.... she wouldn't have guessed that the man would be into floral information. The topic actually mad eher think of the many hours she had spent growing up learning at her mother's side about what plants could do what, could cure what, and their names.

Actually, it made her somewhat sad to think about it, but her expression hid her thoughts. This was not the time to get all sad about the past. Tucking a hair behind her ear, her fingers found that her braid's bow was out of place so she set to work rearranging it, actually she stepped away to undo her entire braid, releasing her flowing golden hair, before she fixed the strands back into the place and her bow back into positon. Keeping her hand at her neck, she rubbed a slightly tender spot and thought about the bandages she had seen on the man's hand. Hm.... interesting.

[Berwald Oxenstierna]

Practically beaming (though in all actuality his facial expression didn't change. pity) at finally having been directed to his target Berwald eagerly began scanning the titles, thumbing through several. This was fantastic. He could finally grow more flowers without having them die on him. People found it odd he was able to get the more difficult blooms to thrive while the hardier ones seemed to wilt in his presence. No longer. Now he would best those tricky flowers at their own game. Just try to die now.

"..... Yer mother was a very lucky wom'n. Flow'rs bright'n anythin'. Always perk m' up." Which was true. In the flat above his shop there were flowers in every window and every surface, even on the roof for those who need the extra sunlight. Not that he'd willingly divulge that information. People didn't really care to do business with an arms dealer who grew petunias in a secret garden. He'd be ruined in no time if that leaked. That was precisely the reason he hadn't conf here before. If he wasn't caught with books on gardening people would never know about his hobbies. Unfortunately his flowers kept dying and he desperately needed to remedy the situation.

Turning his body toward her without removing his eyes from the book he was scanning, Berwald made an intrigued sound in the back of his throat. "Any tips fer tulips? And trimmin' roses? Ah haven't been able t' grow either." Feeling a spark of humor in his chest he grunted and crossed his arms. "Ah can grow lilies out of seas'n and hibiscus is winter but not roses or tulips."

[monaco]

A deep voice made her pause with her hair fixing and she looked back at her male companion. She offered him a smal smile and nodded, because he was right. Some of the best moments she had with her mother involved plants and flowers. Adèlie continued to uphold the floral tradition and her small house had flowers in every window. Come spring and the cold retreats, she had plans to return to her garden. It hurt a great deal when she was forced to sell her mother's floral shop, the building that was actually connected to the bookstore, but a new owner had taken over and had tured the space into a small café.

"Flowers were her life and I must agree, that there is nothing better then waking up to flowers in your window". Aside from the large range of variety dealing with floral properties, Adèlie had her own collection of her mother's personal journel and notes if things she had found or observed from living with flowers her entire life. SO when he asked about tulips and roses, she tapped her chin in thought, recalling some of her mother's words but....

"Here. Wait a moment please..." She trailed off as she stepped down the shelves tot eh back, retrieving a key from her pockets and unlocked a door to reveal another set of selves in a small room. Scrolling over the titles, she fond two books marked "Tulip" and another marked "Rose". Taking the books, her fingers tracing the covers, she returned to the man, her eyes on the book, before she looked back up at him.

"These are my mother's books, her notes. If you'd like...." She paused, thinking to what extent she could trust him with articles of her mother, "You may look through them for what you're looking for. I believe she wrote all you are looking for in these," she said, offering the journals to him.

[Berwald Oxenstierna]

The slight widening of cyan eyes was the only indication of shock Berwald expressed as journals were held out to him. Her mother's..........? There was no way he could ever handle something that must hold such deep memories; it would be wrong and an invasion of privacy. So he quickly back stepped and held up his hands to ward off any attempts of approaching she might make, knocking into a shelf and dropping the books he had been holding. Jumping forward and whipping around to make sure the virtuoso didn't fall down Berwald cursed himself for his size.

Satisfied that he hadn't damaged anything (Yet, he told himself) he stooped to pick up his books in an effort to piece together the thoughts in his head. His verbal skills were spotty at best and situations like this were completely out of his league; he was lucky to remember what English he knew as it was. Loitering a few more moments to compose his already cool features he eventually rose to his feet and looked off to the side of the woman. "Mighty kind of y' but 'm..... afraid Ah couldn't ask y' t' do that fer me."

As he repressed the urge to shift from foot to foot (which likely would have resulted in knocking things over) the burly man thought of a way to compromise. He desperately didn't want to see anymore dead flowers sitting in his house but there was no way he would even think about touching those journals. Drawing his features into a grim expression at the delima (which was rather humorous considering how he never had this problem with the less lawful aspects of his life) Berwald grunted before throwing out his best idea. "Y' could write it down fer me. Ah'd gladly reimburse y'."