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for @mislay

[snapjaw]

The full moon is soon. Jericho can feel it even if he can't explain how--it's a quiet thrum in his blood, an ache somewhere in his chest, an itch between his shoulder blades. It's soon, but he's so fucking close with this bit of research--he can stretch it, just a little. It helps that no one comes into the shop this time of day. Well, hardly anyone comes into the shop at any time of the day--but that's more of an issue for his bank account and the college student he pays to be his accountant than anyone else. The issue he's worried about is that there's a witch two cities over who called him and offered to pay for anything he could find about the Origins and Uses of Thorn Sigils in Urban Barrier Magic and as previously mentioned, turning down paid gigs isn't in his best interest.

And besides, he's sure he read something in this volume last week, something Pre-Coven Accords--

Outside, the church bell announces it's just turned nine. Jericho lets out a puff of a sigh, and pushes his glasses further up his nose, letting the book fall shut with a snap. There's stretching it, and then there's being an idiot.

"I've told you," He starts as he pushes to his feet, walking over to the door to flip the 'open' sign to 'closed'. The hair on his arms is standing on end, he can feel the prickle of gooseflesh that races down them and then back up, but he does his level best to ignore it. "that you can use the front door."

Jericho walks back toward the middle of the room, snagging a half-finished cup of coffee from a bookshelf before he stops, tilting his head as he looks down a row of books.

"How long have you been standing there?" Larus isn't an unwelcome guest, but he is a surprising one, given the time of the month. Jericho takes in the sight of him and then lets out a gentle hum, adding on: "Are you okay?"