Broken Submission

Bibliomania

"Did you see the way they were staring at us?" Amelia moaning, hiding her face in her hands as they staggered out the door onto the chilled pavement.

Derek snickered, hugging her close to his side. "But you're not cold anymore, are you princess?"

Her eyes darted to his face, a shy smile tugging at her lips on hearing the new nickname. The pair ambled down the street, peering in shop windows and teasing each other. When they passed a bookstore café, Amelia turned to Derek with the widest pleading eyes.

"Use your words, little one," he said, booping her nose. 

Shuffling her feet, she looked down at her new, maroon leggings and back up at him, eyes somehow even wider and more pitiful looking. "Could we please go in the bookstore? Just for a minute," she swore.

Derek looked down at her, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Are you sure? It's just a bookstore, surely we can find something more exciting--"

"I'm sure!" she yelped, unintentionally yanking on his arm when she hopped excitedly in place.

The laughter he'd been holding back finally escaped, and he nodded to the door. "Lead the way."

Amelia flashed the biggest grin at him, almost blinding him with her innocent excitement. She burst through the door, eyes scouring the store like it would all disappear.

A young man, perhaps a few years younger than herself, emerged from the stacks. His rumpled academic aesthetic made him instantly part of the bookstore itself in her mind, and he blinked owlishly at her before making an introduction.

"Hi there," he said, with a small smile, "I'm Charlie. Welcome to Bibliomania."

Amelia paused. "Charlie. Like Freya's su--boyfriend?" she amended when Derek elbowed her.

He smiled at her. "I'd say the one and only, but..." he joked. "Hey Derek, I didn't realize that was you."

"Maybe if you had more than candles burning in here," Derek teased. "How's it going?" 

Charlie shrugged his--their?--shoulders. Amelia tried to remember what Freya had said about her subs. She'd referenced "her boys," but...

"I'm sorry," she said, hesitantly. "It's just... I was wondering what pronouns you use?"

Charlie looked at her, surprise on his face.

"I'm sorry," she hurriedly repeated, "I don't mean--"

"It's fine," Charlie reassured her. "It is absolutely fine--even nice--that you asked. I use they/them and he/him interchangeably." 

"Oh good," Amelia sighed in relief. "I just didn't want to get it wrong."

They shook their head. "No worries." Stepping out of the aisle, Charlie gestured to the many bookshelves. "Would you like to browse? I have a pretty extensive collection."

The giddy smile lit up her face again. "I would absolutely love to."

"Ah," Charlie said, "a fellow bibliophile." He took her arm and led her across the shop. "I know just what to do with you."

***

Derek watched her, amused, as he sat in one of the many plush armchairs that dotted Charlie's store. Amelia had walked the aisles, engrossed, for a while with her fingertips trailing across each spine. Now, she sat on the wood floor--a chair like his not even ten feet away--completely ensnared by the volume in her hand.

"I like this one," Charlie said, leaning comfortably against the wall. 

Derek's face softened as he watched her. "I do too. I've almost messed it up so many times..."

"That's life," they said. "That's what relationships are--messes that you hope one or both of you can manage to clean up in time. Before the stain becomes permanent." Charlie scrunched their nose. "It just sounds like I talking about laundry. My point is," they gestured at the small woman on the floor, "she's here. So regardless of whatever you've done wrong in the past, do right by her now."

Derek glanced at his sister's sub. "I should have known you were the sensible one of the group. It's certainly not Freya."

A soft smile touched Charlie's lips. "That woman--she stirs up a lot of shit. But it's a good thing," he assured Derek. "Sometimes I need my shit stirred up a bit."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Woman lets you use language like that?"

Charlie flashed an unexpectedly mischievous smile. "The one thing I refuse to have restricted is my use of language. What she decides to do about that," they shrugged, "is her problem."

Derek chuckled. "And I thought Mav was the brat."

"Pfft," Charlie rolled his eyes. "Maverick is the biggest baby. Shows his belly at the first sign of trouble."

"Well, one of you has to be obedient," Derek laughed, shaking his head. His poor sister. Glancing toward Amelia, he realized that she'd moved without him realizing. He straightened, scanning the stacks. At that moment, his phone buzzed. 

Meet me in the back corner 

Derek raised an eyebrow. "If you'll excuse me..."

Charlie smirked and resumed dusting the shelves. "Have fun."

Making his way through the shelves, Derek kept a wary attention to his surroundings. Amelia had been playful as of late and with this came a certain...feistiness. It wouldn't be the first time he'd been jumped with a cup full of ice or worse, a can of whipped cream.

He rounded a corner and froze. Somehow, in this winding maze of a bookstore, she'd managed to find a desk and... was that a schoolgirl outfit? 

"What--" he spluttered.

She kicked her legs where they dangled off the desk. There was an intoxicating mixture of provocation and innocence about her that Derek couldn't resist. He moved toward her like moth to a flame, her hooded eyes drawing him in, shy beneath the seduction. 

They were face to face. 

"Where," he murmured, "did you find a schoolgirl outfit?"

"I think it's an apron," she breathed distractedly. "It was hanging on the back of the chair. Now," she pulled him forward between her legs, "too much talking, not enough kissing the life out of me."

Derek grabbed her waist, hauling her against him as his other hand wrapped around her throat. "You don't give the orders, little one."

"Are you sure about that?" she whispered. "Because there's a very sturdy looking ruler in that drawer," she said, eyes wide and vulnerable, "and I'd love it if you'd..." suddenly, a grin crossed her face, "bend over and let me use it on you."

His grip on her throat tightened, and he nipped her ear with his teeth, eliciting a squeak. "Naughty girl," he growled into her ear.

Naughty. Fucking. Girl.