"What's your favorite word?" he asked, making you knit your eyebrows together, blinking at him as your mind tried to come up with an answer.
"I suppose it's vellichor."
"Vellichor: the strange wistfulness of used bookstores," he muttered making you...
1. I'm sure many of you are here from Two Existentialists. I want to ensure you this will be the same amount of fluff, if not more. 2. I imagine a season 8/9 Reid here, but Maeve never happened. 3. As always, ** denotes where the gif is placed in the chapter, although you are free to use your imagination.
Alright, that is all. I hope you enjoy!
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You pushed the door open, a faint ringing coming from the motion. "Hey Y/N," the girl at the front desk, Judy, said as you entered. You have her a small wave in return, making your way to the back.
You smiled softly to yourself as you climbed the steps to the second floor of your favorite bookstore. As you reached the top, where things were often untouched, you took a deep breath. The smell of old books, of ink and crinkled pages filled your nose. This was your favorite scent, you longed for it often.
You rarely had an afternoon to yourself, but today was one of those days. You could have an afternoon where you could enjoy reading in the quiet bookstore that was your safe haven, in a spot tucked away from the people who came in to get the latest YA novel or whatever landed #1 on the NYT bestseller list that week.
As you reached the top of the stairs, you knocked into the lamp, the same lamp you always hit. You had come here a hundred times and still, you always ended up knocking into it. A man looked up at the sound of the noise and met your eyes before returning to his book.** Strange, usually no one was here. You studied him closely for a moment, his hair falling in his face as his long fingers skimmed a page.
His tongue swiped across his lower lip, likely due to his focus on the book in his hand. He had a clear-cut jawline and you noticed hazel eyes from your momentary eye contact. He was attractive, you wouldn't lie.
You shook your head, removing that thought, and walked to the classics section. You didn't know what to read today but you decided on A Tale of Two Cities as you perused the shelf. You pulled it out, smiling at the cracks in the spine. Most people hated cracking the spines of their books. But you didn't mind, it showed it had been read and read well.
You sat down at the only other table in the room, which happened to be across from his. You leaned against the comfy chair, lifting your latte to your lips as you opened the book and began to read. By the time you finished reading, the sun had begun to set.
You placed the book down, looking out of the window and smiling at the various hues of orange and red streaking the sky.
You eventually stood up to return the book. You slid it back into its place, turning and returning to your seat. You picked up your bag and slid on your jacket, your eyes still transfixed on the landscape. You took one last look, moving towards the staircase to leave.
As you exited the store, waving goodbye to Judy, you stopped. "The sunset struck so brilliantly into the traveling carriage when it gained the hill-top, that its occupant was steeped in crimson," a voice whispered, making you turn.
Your eyes caught the man from earlier, your lips parting at his words. "Pardon?" You asked as you stood in the doorway. He stepped closer, holding the door for you to leave.
"Sorry, I saw you reading Dickens earlier. It happens to be one of my favorites. And the sunset reminded me of that scene," he replied making you nod.
"Oh?" was all you could come up with as his eyes locked with yours again. You smiled softly, exiting the bookstore, him following you out. You stopped a few steps outside of the store, turning and crossing your arm. "So, do you often quote novels perfectly in conjunction with the scenery?"
He smiled gently, looking down as he placed his hands in his pockets. "No, not really," he said quietly. You laughed, looking at him in wonder. He awkwardly shuffled between his feet, looking at you before turning and walking away. You watched him go, your brain yelling at you.
"Coffee?" You shouted, making him spin around.
"What?"
"Would you like to get coffee with me? At some point?" You asked, blushing furiously.
"Yes, um, yeah, I would, um, I would like that," he replied, smiling.
"Alright, how about the coffee shop down the street. Tomorrow at 12?" you asked. He nodded, his hair falling into his face as he did.
