He hadn't arrived as early as he would've liked, but Lestat blamed the City's poor flower selection for that.
He'd wanted to be at the shop at the time it opened, and get to see Honour alone before everyone else arrived. He was taking full advantage of the sun not holding any sway over him. He'd actually had trouble resting the previous night, now that he could do anything at any time of the day without a care for lethargy and immobility that came with the sun's rays.
But truly, white roses were difficult to find. Those up to his standards, at least.
Once he had them, Lestat headed for the book store. He wore glasses with purple lenses, his blond hair back in a ponytail, and a waist coat--not a true one, mind, but one that was in fashion and 'Gothic.' It was black and blue, and Lestat was quite fond of it. He was raised to dress up for a lady's birthday, and his closet full of things like this one made that easy.
He entered the shop, six white roses in his left hand, bound together by a blood red ribbon. With a slight smirk, he looked around, eyes scanning the shelves, and stopping on each face he found.