Re: Antique Store: Louis/Sparrow
The ringleted blonde had no friends, and she had no love. She had nothing but names, and those people had helped her, but one conversation wasn't love. She liked to think she'd known love, and she liked to think she'd spent nights in a warm embrace, and that she'd lived holidays at a rowdy table and beneath lights that glittered. She liked to believe these things, but she didn't know if they were true. The truth was that, now, as of the moment that she was standing there with him, taking up space, while hardly taking up any space at all, she had no friends, not truly.
But she had her certainty that these items belonged elsewhere, and so she would make this happen.
He said he could find Evie and Luke, and she smiled with honest thanks, excess money tucked away once more. Open and truth, and she was glad of his help. Perhaps it was strange, as she was paying him, and he should be the one grateful for her patronage. But, non, the world didn't always work in ways that made sense, and this was more of the nonsense that comprised the air in her version of reality.
It wasn't hard yet, he said, to care for the items in the shop, and she held her tongue, kept her quiet, and nodded her ringleted head as he explained that he was new here. She'd been here forever, in Repose. And she'd been here but a moment or two, in Repose. "I'm glad you like it here, and I do live here, in the town. Outside, really, at the Carnival. We're oddities, like the strange doll that looks at you from the shelf, and we make people uncomfortable in the same way. I don't come here often." She smiled, and she held out her hand, graceful in a shake of soft fingers, before she stepped back.
"I'll let you get back to your wards and charges," as if the items encased within walls of glass were alive, and perhaps they were, in their own way. "Thank you for accommodating my strange requests."