The crisp air followed me as I walked to Arif's to pick up cinnamon rolls for breakfast. The walk back to Portland Row was a joyful one, only living people, leaves falling from trees in a graceful manner. The only trouble I had was when my shoe kept falling off. As I got closer to the house, I could here the faint clang of metal on metal, which meant Lockwood was practicing with George using the new rapiers we had gotten last night.
I walked through the door and set the cinnamon rolls on the kitchen table. I opened the door to the basement and yelled out, "Breakfast is here!"
All at once, the clanging stopped, and and I heard footsteps run up the stairs. I jumped back just in time, they ran into the kitchen and almost knocked me over.
"Wow, thanks for saying hi. I mean, it's not my birthday or anything, so why bother," I said jokingly.
"Happy birthday, Lucy!" Lockwood said, smiling with cinnamon rolls in his mouth.
"Oh, yeah, Happy birthday!" George said.
"Thank you. And now for breakfast, 'homemade' cinnamon rolls!"
The rest of the day went by smoothly, no one called, so we had the day off. For dinner, George made chicken pot pie, and we had ice cream for dessert. I thought the day couldn't get any better. Instead, it got worse.
Hello! So, this is my new story. I am going to attempt to write another Locklyle fanfiction (shut it, Benja_and_SPN, I know what your thinking...) and I hope you like it!
LucyCarlyle
YOU ARE READING
Sweet as a Rose
AléatoireLucy Carlyle had been so close to forming a relationship with Lockwood when someone came in to steal her show. Now feeling left out, she wonders what is wrong with her. But when Lockwood is injured during a case, she must set aside her feelings and...
