She almost entertained the idea of asking him to wait, as if a bit of good spell work could have the clean-up done in minutes instead of hours. But, knowing Madame Pince there would have to be time spent checking bindings, checking pages to see that none were missing and hand alphabetizing.
She watched him stand and fought the urge to push him right back down and forget all about the dumb owl, but she had already sent her reply. She could only imagine not showing up only to have Madame Pince showing up at her front door.
Lyra gave a rather good pout and begrudgingly headed toward her front door to hold it open for him. The pout lifted, though, when he mentioned writing. She lowered her gaze for a moment and shyly kicked the toe of her slipper shoe at the ground.
"I'd like that very much," she managed. And then, just before he left another bought of daring flooded her heart. She grabbed at the collar of his shirt and gave a good tug to pull him down as she lifted herself up onto her toes to give him once last kiss, and there was nothing chaste about this one. It even became difficult for her to pull back again as she took to snaking an arm over his neck and went about pressing her petite form up against his lithe frame.
But, eventually, she did, tongue sweeping over her lower lip a moment.