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Bryn Cadwallader (nowinaminute) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

For his part, Bryn wasn't quite sure how things stood with Lucy either. He thought there might be some flirting there, but it was hard to tell when lately he'd only seen her handwriting or in the company of a professional Quidditch player.

He was slicing some of the bread he had made that morning when he heard the knock on the door. Currently, the windows were frosted with a charm to hide the decorating from prying eyes. Everything was nearly finished, though, and Bryn was just waiting for the last few finishing touches to arrive by owl order. Everything was looking just how he had hoped, cosy but not dark. There was room for half a dozen small tables, but he was imagining that most of his customers would be taking their food away.

Bryn unlocked the door, smiling. "Come in, come in. I was just getting things ready. How are you doing?"