Tom Holland Imagines: Volume 2

Some Assistance Required

TOM'S POV:

Though I'm not much of a reader, I do like to duck into bookshops every now and again. It's always nice and quiet, which is a nice break from being dogged by fans wherever I go. 

Post-lunch one July afternoon, I began to notice a little following gathering behind me as I left the restaurant. As usual, I pretended to ignore them while desperately searching for a place to slip out of the way. Luckily for me, as I turned the corner, "The Good Word" stood in front of me like a holy grail, its little wooden door propped open with a steel cat doorstop.

Before the people could follow me down the street, I whisked myself through the door and was immediately hit with the smell of yellowing paper and old coffee. An orange tabby weaved its way through my ankles in greeting and I stooped to scratch its head before taking a look around me.

This was certainly an old bookshop. The thick wooden shelves stood floor-to-ceiling with a melange of antique tomes and current favorites. I began to wander through the labyrinth of pages, stopping here and there to marvel at a particularly interesting cover, when I reached the vinyl section of the bookstore. There, organizing records alphabetically by artist, was the sweetest creature I'd ever seen.

Her hair fell in soft curls past her headband and she bit her lip as she focused, tapping her Doc. Marten Mary Janes in time with the swing-like jazz playing over the speakers. She was so utterly consumed with her work that she didn't notice me there, which I liked.

I admit I may have followed her around for a while. She finished her vinyl organization and began to reshelve stacks of books customers had left lying around. Meanwhile, I ducked around shelves trying to get a good look at her. I knew I had to say something...I was a grown man and it was utterly foolish to spy on girls at my age without introducing oneself. 

I had to win her over, and girls like this have a tell-tale weakness:

"Excuse me, miss, I'm looking for a book."

Her pretty head snapped up at me from where she was working. Recognition flashed in her eyes for a moment, though she didn't say anything, and she gave me a little smile that made my knees weak.

"Of course, sir! Which book?"

"Well, that's the thing, I'm not sure what to read next," I responded charmingly. "What do you recommend?"

She blushed a little before replying, "Well, I'm more into the classics. My all-time favorite is 'Great Expectations.' Have you read it?"

"I have not," I lied, the plan in my mind becoming increasingly clearer. 

"Oh, you just have to! Follow me."

She took me to a row of Dickens novels and selected the new edition with a fine white paper cover, giving it to me. I turned it over in my hands before shaking my head.

"Do you have any older editions? I love antique books."

"Oh, me too!" she exclaimed, clearly excited to have found something in common with me, then obviously feeling stupid. She pressed her lips together in a slight frown then shook off the look altogether and smiled. "We have one, but it's rather expensive."

"I don't mind," I responded. Because truthfully I didn't. She shrugged and led me over to a locked bookcase at the back of the store. When she removed the book from its place on the shelf, she handled it so delicately I could tell she'd admired it for a while. She placed the thing into my hands, and I must admit it was beautiful. The cover was thick leather with golden embellishments and the pages were crisp with age, though the spine was intact. 

"It's been here as long as I can remember," she whispered, looking at the book in amazement. "I'm almost sure it's a first-edition copy."

"I'll take it," I said, grinning. 

When the girl rang me up, it was indeed QUITE the expensive book. But I knew it'd be worth it.

"It'll be in safe hands with you, Mr. Holland," the girl said sheepishly, almost as if she felt bad for recognizing me altogether. I smiled.

"Thank you ever so much for your help...."

"It's Y/N. Y/N, Y/L/N." 

"Y/N. Thank you for your assistance."

"Of course, it was my pleasure."

When I returned to my hotel, I found a pen and tore a sheet off the pad of paper next to it. I scribbled a message down as quickly as I could, tucked it inside the book's front cover, and wrapped the whole thing sloppily in brown paper.

Y/N'S POV:

He came back just as I was closing up shop. I had just started to close the shutters when I heard a knock at the door. There he was...Thomas Holland...standing in the pouring rain and clutching a package to his chest. He waved and I hurried to open the door.

"Mr. Holland? You're back?"

"Yes, well...I just wanted to give you something in return for your help earlier. That's all."

He handed me a badly-wrapped package and whisked himself away before I could respond. Carefully, I tore open the paper. There, underneath, was the copy of "Great Expectations" I had admired for as long as I could remember. Shocked, I opened the cover. A slip of paper fell at my feet. Curiously, I picked it up.

"For Y/N,
You are just as lovely as you are beautiful. I must confess I lied earlier...I have read  'Great Expectations' and I thoroughly enjoyed it, though I'm sure not as much as you. I know this book will be in good hands. 
Please keep in touch. My number is enclosed below.
Thanks again, 

Tom Holland x "