"Toris! Get the door, would ya please?"Alfred shouts from his room, frowning as he adjusts his tie in front of his mirror.
"Right away, sir," replies the soft voice from the corridor. Alfred shakes his head in mock exasperation, crying out "I told you, no need for the 'sir', call me Alfred!"
Toris sighs once the shouted words reach his ears, walking to greet whoever's knocking at the front door.
Only once does he open the door with a click and a small "hello" does the sight before him take his breath away.
Standing before him is a couple – he thinks they're together, anyway – so beautiful they seem to have jumped out straight from the pictures.
The man is tall, with blond slicked-back hair and a jawline that could cut diamonds. His broad shoulders and cool blue gaze give him an imposing and austere aura, Toris thinks.
The woman, in comparison, exudes warmth and charm. Clad in the latest fashion, with her black dress under a fur coat and a matching clutch, she is all smiles and glamour, honey blond curls framing a soft face, not a streak to be seen from her perfectly applied lipstick. Toris can't help but think, however, when he sees those ruby lips curl into a sly grin for only a second, and the wicked glint in the woman's clear green eyes, that under all that air of grace and charisma, there is the sharp wit and dangerous allure of a vixen.
"Good evening," the woman purrs, effectively pulling Toris out of his nervous stupor, "We're terribly sorry to bother you – and on Christmas Eve, of all days! Is this the Jones's household?" She tilts her head to the side in an attempt to look through the slight door gap, behind Toris. He moves to block her view.
"Y-yes," he stammers, before straightening his posture and narrowing his eyes, slightly wary of these two individuals outside of his home. "But who might you be?" he asks a bit more firmly.
The woman gasps, bringing a gloved hand to her face in embarrassment. "Oh, dear me, how impolite of us! My name is Margaret Crawford, and this handsome man here is my husband." The man in question extends his hand for a handshake, speaking in a velvety baritone.
"Edward Crawford. Pleasure."
Toris loses his previous composure and fumbles to reciprocate the handshake through the door gap, his cheeks colouring faintly in his clumsiness. "A-and what brings you to Mr. Jones's household?"
"Ah," Margaret smiles knowingly, "Well, we've done a bit of business in the past with Mr. Jones. You just tell him who we are, he'll know it's an urgent matter," she drawls seductively, finishing with a wink.
The way Margaret says all of this makes Toris gulp in uneasiness. What in the world does Alfred have to do with these people he's never before seen in his life? He usually knows about all his business transactions, when Alfred comes back home from work every evening complaining about all his clients and staff. What on earth has he gotten himself into now?
Nonetheless, a client is a client, and Toris opens the door after undoing the clasp chaining it to the doorframe.
"I'll l-let Mr. Jones know that he has two guests, then. If you'll follow me, please," Toris says, leading Margaret and Edward to the guest lounge. With a promise to not keep them waiting for too long, he leaves once they reach their destination, their thanks not reaching him as he hastily makes his way to Alfred's room. The man is holding two ties in his hand, still undecided, when Toris finds him.
"Hey, Toris!" he greets, "So, who was at the door? Man, I can't figure out which one of these to wear for tonight." He laughs, shaking his head to himself, "Kind of silly of me, huh? It's just a darn tie."
"The blue one," Toris replies breathlessly, restless and fidgeting with nervous agitation. "Alfred," at that, the American raises his head in surprise to hear his name being used instead of 'sir', "there's a couple asking for you downstairs, a Mrs. Margaret and Mr. Edward Crawford?"
Alfred stiffens at the mention of those names. "What are they doing here? I thought we were done with our business." As he hurriedly puts on his blue tie, he continues, "so, what do they want?"
"I-I'm not sure," Toris falters, "Something about an, um… an urgent matter."
"Alright," Alfred frowns, "Shouldn't keep them waiting too long then, huh?"