Michael didn't think he'd been walking too fast, though he most likely could have been skipping along the rows of books without really even knowing he was doing so. His brain was so far out of it that he could have just knocked over the Queen herself and he wouldn't have cared. Or at least he wouldn't have invited her for tea and biscuits.
The sound of a slightly familiar voice was what kept him from continuing along his way, and he folded his arms and arched an eyebrow curiously as he glanced down at Evelyn Rivers on the floor. He could have sworn he heard something about pants, perhaps his own, but if someone wanted his pants then that was an entirely different story.
"Hi," he echoed, turning on his gentleman-like charm and bending down to help her with her books. Merlin, why were there so many? Did they all come from her arms, or did she bump into the bookshelf and take half of those books with her? He shrugged to himself and forgot about those questions as he offered her a smile. "Sorry, again. Are you alright?" There was a bit of playfulness in his voice, as he was trying not to chuckle, but he wasn't mocking her, just simply trying to keep the mood light in case she was angry.
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