This could
not be happening.
The realisation hit Perdita in the face at three in the morning and she'd been awake ever since. She was late. She was
late-late. She'd been pacing up and down her living room floor for the past hour and a half, chewing on her thumbnail as her thoughts tumbled around her. She'd always been careful. She'd always been stringent about that sort of thing. She was too uptight
not to be prepared but lately, there had been a few occurrences where she'd been away from home - holidays, day trips, staying at Torrence's home a few times - she suddenly stopped pacing.
"Fuck," Perdy swore, rubbing a hand over her face. How could she have been so stupid? Women like her never got swept off their feet. The panic began to rise, making her stomach twist and turn as nausea washed over her at the thought that she could be pregnant. It was impossible. It had to be. There must be another reason. The odds of that happening in one or two incidents must be slim to none. Either way, she wasn't going to risk it.
Her family got their potions from a shop in Cork. The potioneer there was efficient and discreet, exactly what Perdita needed. She usually got her own personal supply of potions from a local apothecary but they were closed today (rude). The Blooms had been using the branch for eons, from everything from cold and flu to the time her mother got really ill a few Christmases ago. She could owl and have it delivered, she supposed, but time was very much of the essence. And she needed to get out of the house.
Grabbing her house keys, the trip to Ireland took a mere seconds, letting her feet land outside the shop as Perdita slipped on her
heel. As the paranoia grew, she glanced over her shoulder before realising she was being silly and hastily pushed the door open, the tinkling bell announcing her arrival and she scowled at the merry sound. Her bright eyes looked around the vast space. It was silent, save for the gentle bubbling of a nearby cauldron and a softly ticking clock.
It was nothing to be embarrassed about. Birth control potions were a perfectly normal request to a potion master to make. With her shoulders back, she inhaled through her nose as she spotted a pretty dark haired woman near the back of the shop.
"Hi," Perdita greeted her as she strode forward, her hands in her trouser pockets with a smile on her face that didn't quite reach her eye. "I need some help," she announced vaguely. Perdy shifted her weight, the unease growing as she lowered her voice, as though sharing a secret. "I, er," she stumbled over her words, becoming angry and frustrated at how weak and uncertain she felt. Perdita couldn't wholly blame Torrence, but it did take two to tango. She cleared her throat. "A morning after potion?" Perdy ventured, tangling a hand in the back of her hair.
@Nessa Regan 
