Room 201, Sunday Late Afternoon

[give_areason]

If asked why Rosalind had not made it to the library lately, well, in part it was that wasn't entirely certain if with his situation as it was, that Jono would appreciate too much company

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[theotherpeter]

Peter stopped by Rosalind's room, a cup of coffee in each of his hands.

He thought it might work better than chocolate.

"Hey, can you do me a favor?" he asked, leaning against her door frame.

[give_areason]

"Define the favour," came the very dry response as she set her pen down and glanced over.

Rosalind promised nothing without knowing what she was getting into.

[theotherpeter]

"I seem to have bought one too many coffees," Peter said. "Mind taking one off my hands?"

Sly old dog.

[give_areason]

Rosalind's eyebrows went up.

"How did you manage to buy too many coffees?"

[sorella_vecchia]

Despite the open door, Triela paused in the doorway and knocked on the frame. "Rosalind." It was more an announcement of her presence than a greeting.

[give_areason]

And the response she got back was a considering glance.

"Triela."

[sorella_vecchia]

"I thought I'd stop by and retrieve my property."

[give_areason]

Rosalind arched an eyebrow.

"Are you capable of using it properly now?"

[furnaceface]

Okay, so it hadn't been a bad day so much as it had been a slow one, and Jono found himself in a bit of a bored, only slightly perturbed mood after his shift at the library had ended.

Bloody attractive gits with their perfect hair and their fancy red leather coats...

//Knock knock.//

At any rate, there was a face that he'd grown accustomed to seeing on Sundays who had apparently gone missing from his usual weekend visitors. He was just checking in to be certain that she hadn't managed to grumpy herself to death.

[give_areason]

"Come in, Jono," Rosalind called, not looking up from her letter quite yet.

It didn't even bother her now that someone was talking in her head.

[furnaceface]

//Oh, you knew it was me? What gave it away?// Yes, he was being a brat as he opened the door and peered into the room. Why not? If she wasn't in the mood for it, she could smack him, anyhow.

[give_areason]

"The dulcet sound of your voice," she retorted dryly, finishing her paragraph and glancing up at him. "The room will not bite you."

Presumably.

[findingelena]

And this was Rosalind's phone ringing anyway. It was like Elena was psychic! Or excited and trying to think of who to tell! Or able to read narrative!

[give_areason]

If Elena ever became psychic, Rosalind would... do something.

She wasn't sure what, but it would be drastic.

"Rosalind."

Elena wouldn't mind the standard one word greeting, would she?

[findingelena]

"Elena," she replied, sounding amused. "Phone call. Greetings."

They could totally have a meta call right here!

[give_areason]

One eyebrow arched expressively. It was really too bad Elena wasn't there to see it.

"You're in a mood," Rosalind observed, a faint bit of amusement curling around her words.