The Bright Side

One

It smells like old paper in here. Old books.

God, I love that smell.  If it was a perfume I would bathe in it.  Just kidding.  That would be kind of gross.

Looking around, I see tables with several people sitting and minding their business reading.  The bookstore is quite old.  The aged wooden bookshelves look as though they are about to break from holding all the different stories.  The light hardwood floors are covered in scratches.

This store is one of my favorite places.

I came here looking for friends since I'm a lonely bitch.  And for books as well.

At home I still have five books left to read so I really don't have to be here, but a little book browsing never hurt anybody.

I want to read some romance.

I mean, when am I ever not in the mood to read romance?

Strolling past the isles a figure sitting against the bookshelf catches my eye.

Possible friend?

Yes.

A smile immediately arises on my face.  I can't see his whole face, he is looking down into a book.  I can see some of his really nice side profile.  His bed head dark brown hair is falling slightly into his eyes.

I walk straight towards him.

Closer up I'm able to get a better view of his face.  He has light freckles spread across his nose and cheeks.  They are so faint that they're kind of hard to notice.

His hair is messy and wavy, sitting on top of his head carelessly. His lips are quite plump and rosy. I'm jealous.

Since he is looking down into the book I get a great view of his eyelashes.  They're long and dark, fanning out like feathers across his cheeks.

That's not fair.  Why does he have better eyelashes then me?  What the fuck?

He seems to be tall too, must be around six feet.

A black crew neck and black dickies with white air forces adorn his body.  A single silver ring sits on his middle finger.

I like his style.

He should tell me where he shops.

All my clothes are old and kind of falling apart at the seams. I just tell myself it looks vintage. When in reality it doesn't look vintage, I just look homeless.

Suddenly his grey eyes meet mine.  Oh shit.

Why does he have prettier eyes than me too?  What the fuck?

"Are you just gonna stare at me like a fucking creep?" There is harshness in his tone.  He obviously doesn't seem too appreciative of my presence.

Well, I mean I did interrupt his reading, so I guess I would be irritated with me as well if I were him.

I open my mouth but no words come out.  Speak.  Why can't I speak?

I blink and choke out a fake cough in an attempt to cover up whatever the fuck just happened to me.  My brain system malfunctioned I guess.

Taking a seat on the ground next to him I put a serious look on my face, showing him that I mean business.  That soon fades though when I internally laugh at my inability to be serious.

"I have a proposition." He furrows his eyes brows at my statement.

"Who are you?" He ignores what I just said.