day 5, january 15th: non-despair au

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the faint smell of embers, the faint taste of honey

she meets her in a bookstore, and feels true hatred -- albeit, a hatred that bubbles and warms her chest. 

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each time I walk into that little bookstore down the street, two things greet me: the warm, familiar smell of the air freshener, and an infuriatingly bubbly cashier who seemed to be working there nearly every day.

she greets me excitedly, recognizing my face; I scowl, but begrudgingly wave back to her. she beams, and I rush off once again.

we don't say a word to each other during each of my visits - I plan out exactly what to do in my head to avoid her. no matter how much that naive, plain face draws me in, I won't succumb.

I talk about her to master on the days I do visit her. I praise him and compare the two, making good and sure he knows my hatred for her. I find myself talking about every painfully average aspect about her, from the ill-fitting apron on her chest, to the nametag sloppily pinned to her shirt, to the vibrancy in her eyes and the way they sparkle when they meet mine, to the ways I imagine how soft and sweet her lips would be -- I stop dead in my tracks when I find myself speaking so fondly of her.

the next day, I finally decide to talk to her for the first time.

(a/n: i did end up skipping a day, that wasn't a mistake on my part)

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