Re: antique store: louis/claire
He did not prick his finger. His hand came close, but as it neared the spearpoint he paused and it dropped away.
He blinked, swallowed, and had the impression he'd said something inappropriate. He ran a hand through his hair.
"I'm terribly sorry," he said, with clipped politeness. "I'm glad you have your...spear back. And your generous purchase is much appreciated. I hope you'll come in again. Some other time."
He felt sick in the extreme, his mouth dry and sandy and his temples pulsing with headache. He needed to sleep, he thought. He might be coming down with something, and with Oliver working at Sam's, there was no one else to run the store if he didn't. Rest was just the ticket. Maybe he'd close early and settle with a book. That sounded extremely good. Some tea sounded even better.