Reagan & Emmy | Early Morning; Before the Proceedings | Gerrick's
Reagan was never one to second guess herself. When she acted, it was with finality, her decisions final and resolute. Now, this was not to say that these decisions were always rational, per se, which was exactly how she found herself waiting in the downstairs of her otherwise abandoned store in her dressing robe awaiting the arrival of a certain Milk Maid turned club bouncer.
She hadn't meant to involve herself in the young woman's life so thoroughly, really she hadn't. Initially when she had volunteered to hem her dress it had been out of pity. When she had made her a brand new suit for work, it had been out of sheer practicality (and the excitement of an innovative new project, of course.) But when Emmy had come to pick up the finished products two days prior, and had excitedly chattered on about her nervousness regarding a boy, it had been something altogether different that had caused her to impatiently and sternly demand for her to return the morning of the festival without disclosing a reason.
She despised surprises. Or at least, she used to. She could only blame Lachlan for her newfound appreciation for the unanticipated.
The knock on the door pulled her from her reverie. At the very least, she reasoned, this little side-project was a good outlet for the excited energy that had been consuming her since last night; it was her first Glynn turning in over a decade, after all, and if there was one thing she'd missed about home, it was the turning ceremonies, especially for Canwyn.
She threw the lock and greeted Emmy in the pale light of early morning, a soft, upward slant at the corners of her lips and her eyes alight despite the otherwise stoic set to her features. Instinctively, without realizing, her gaze dropped to behold her outfit before rising back to the browns of her eyes. As usual, she didn't seem overly impressed. "Emmy. Come in, please. Happy Turning."