One of the perks of this job (beside the obvious flowers), Yasha had decided, was the books that Lucille kept loaning her. Every now and then, as a break from her other duties, she'd take a few minutes to herself and read a chapter or so. And these last few books... they were dark, yet somehow still beautiful, and she was fascinated by that.

(That seemed to appeal to her. For some reason.)

She'd worn the black flower crown that Liam had left outside her door a couple of weeks ago, sort of worked into her braids a bit along with a few small, delicate blue flowers that she'd just discovered were called "Storm Clouds."

That was appropriate, she felt.

Anyhow, as she usually did on Fridays, she got very engrossed in the arrangements she was making, which didn't make the phone calls that occasionally jolted her out of her creative haze and interrupted her work any more appealing to her socially-averse self. Phone calls were still the worst.


[OOC: Having real Feelings about a bit of a quote from this girl last night. Anyway, open.]