Ruta-beg-ya || [Louis]
@junisohare
Toulouse had, never in his life, properly grocery shopped. He had popped in for a thing or two here and there, but it was Nounou who did the shopping. Nounou who did the dry cleaning—and the regular cleaning. (Though, Lou was rather neat regardless.)
However, today, he was tasked with shopping. Even though he had given Nounou a pinched expression when she handed him her list in her scrawling French. She had reached up and tweaked his cheek and told him to get rid of that sour face if he wanted to eat tonight, for she had other things to do, and she would rather let them all starve instead of go grocery shopping instead of clean the house.
He had attempted to drag Belle along but found that she had left at first light in search of her horse and Hades was busy with Chapter Three clean up. He had considered texting his brother, mostly for the company, because Lou was not incompetent. He could grocery shop, thank you. But, then, he recalled his brother was on vacation.
Out of options (for he would not ask Marie or Sophie, the only other people he could reasonably tolerate when performing a new task such as grocery shopping) Lou sucked it up and headed to the grocery store. Which was—a disaster. Only half-running from what he could tell, and only out of the necessity of being the only grocery store in town. He realized his mistake as he walked into it, but decided to press on, because Lou was hardly ever one to admit mistakes.
He was doing alright too, until he came to the fruit section. Once, twice, three times around, and Toulouse Bonfamille could not find the blueberries. He went slow during the second run, his eyes scouring all over the place. On the third time he whipped through the section with a growl on his breath, annoyed.
Eventually, flustered and full of defeat and, honestly, rather hungry, Toulouse stalked towards the front of the store.
“Where is Junis O’Hare?” he snapped at the poor cashier.
“He’s—in the back.”
“Get him.”
“Uhm, do you have an appointment?”
“No.”
“Uhm…”
“Just—do it,” Lou growled and then whirled away again as he heard the cashier’s hesitant voice over the loudspeaker. It took only a moment before he spotted the harried looking man appear. Of course, Toulouse knew the owner of this establishment, regardless of his patronage. He lifted his chin a bit as he watched the smaller man scurry forwards.
