—Aldous L. Royal.
Who’s afraid of little old me?
• english business man
• rich arsehole
• ravenclaw alumni
• pureblood
• charms expert
#hprp#fakecharacter
@ironscriptures He rolls his eyes– “Harass? How dramatic.”
“No, I merely just /had/ to see the special little bookshop you couldn’t possibly bear to part with,”
@ironscriptures The quip makes his eyebrow twitch, smirk curling at his mouth.
“And I thought you’d be older.” He tuts, letting his eyes wander the store again, moving to pick a book off the shelf, glance over with his face screwed into a grimace, “You’re proving difficult for me, Miss Grant.”
@ironscriptures He pushes the glasses into greying hair and looks over at her, slowly taking in the shop on the way.
His lip is almost curled, but the smile is not polite, “I’m here for Amelia Grant.”
@ironscriptures —opening times, or anyone else’s time other than his own to be honest. He pushes inside, the doorbell ringing through his head.
That’ll be the first thing to go.
@ironscriptures So this was the place. The one in his way.
He stands outside of the shop, eyeing it with distaste behind the dark sunglasses on his face. It seems so… lackluster. He can’t understand why anyone would fight so hard to keep it. It annoys him.
He didn’t much care for—
@henrieallaire “Secrets.” She said sarcastically in response, not looking up from the small sketch she’d been making of the grounds keeper pottering about out of her window.
“What do you want?”