Oliver. King. (cyprian) wrote in repose, @ 2016-01-22 00:23:00 |
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Entry tags: | *log, cris martin, hunter reed, oliver king |
Sonrisa: oliver & hunter & appearances by cris
Who:Oliver, Hunter, Cris
What: The repairing of a window, store opening
Where: Sonrisa
When: Morning
Warnings: Nay
He wore pewter and turmoil(& some new gloves courtesy of Louis) to Sonrisa on that morning. Bright and early was what he'd told the Sheriff, and although it was exactly bright out, it was early. So early that Oliver, who was still riding the illusionary dregs of last night's NyQuil, bothered with getting coffee from a diner on the way. The cup was Styrofoam, size large, and colorful red… but it was still a gray day.
Oliver didn't know much about coffee, as Jude preferred tea and so tea was what was most often stocked at the house in the woods. Oliver knew that it was bitter and hot, both were things that he didn't mind. He knew that people mixed hazelnuts and caramel and sometimes just milk into their coffee, but the whole chemistry seemed too experimental to try on his own, so he just took it the way that it came. That was safer than asking and being denied or being looked at strangely, which was Oliver's only real(acknowledged) discomfort.
He unlocked the store with one of several keys on a ring. The ring was growing, the little steel family had multiplied since coming to Repose. There was a key for the house, and a key for the Antiques Shop, and now a key for Sonrisa. Each key was a responsibility, and that was something that he wasn't used to, but he was trying not to freak out about it. Once the door was unlocked, he stuffed the keys back into a dark denim pocket, and he vowed to leave them untouched. Sometimes anxiety crept up on him and he would pull them out to make sure that they were all still there, but there were only so many times that one could count the same three keys without feeling more than a little neurotic, so lately he was trying to leave them alone.
The lights came on, flooding the store with far more light than was outside, and Oliver set his coffee on the counter by the register, as he peeled off a gray coat to reveal gray cable knit underneath… again, gray days.
He didn't know much about opening stores. Oliver had just gotten the hang of the Antiques place, or so he liked to think, and now there was Sonrisa to get the hang of. Neither of which seemed like they operated with a great deal of rules, more flexibility than anything, and that kept Oliver comfortable enough to assure his daily return. Besides, he didn't mind old things, and he didn't mind the smell of paint. The house was lonely during the day when Jude was off doing his Jude things, and so its not like Oliver had anywhere better to be than opening stores at the early hours of morning.
He popped open the cash register to look over the drawer, and an eyebrow skewed.