InsaneJournal

Severus tapped his foot as he spread his toast with blood orange marmalade.  Lupin was late.  Naturally, Severus still didn't want to see or speak to him, but Gryffindor's being what they were he had expected to hear the pounding on the door again this morning.  His tea was cold as he took another sip.  He shoved himself away from the table.  There were potions in his lab that required attention; he had best get to them.

His lunch sat untouched as he alternated his glare between his soup and cheese toast and the table itself.  The lunch hadn't really done anything to deserve it, but it had made him sit at the table and the table most certainly deserved such treatment.  Besides, one needed to practice on occasion just to keep one's glare sharp.  The table richly deserved what it received.  It had been the centerpiece of his plan with its age-worn top and cigarette burned scars.  Severus had been absolutely certain that when Lupin would have turned up this morning and that he would be easily manipulated into a quick shag right here on this table.  A good memory with a meal was never a bad thing.

He tore at the bread with his teeth and barely noticed the rich flavours of the sourdough, butter and his favourite Red Leicester cheese.  Where in the hell was Lupin?