Until We Meet Again

8.

I hate mondays.

Mondays are the worst days of the week, as well as thursdays.

Monday mornings are even worse, if I'm honest, just having to wake up after spending the weekend sleeping, or getting drunk, or doing both of these things is a nightmare.

This explains why I have been extremely grumpy ever since I woke up this morning.

James decided to sleep over at mine yesterday night, because he was too lazy to drive back to his after dropping me off. Which was cool, because we got to make out, and of course have sex.

I'd missed him like that.

Maybe I've been dramatic over our situation lately, and I've only been seeing things in the worst way possible to excuse the fact that I wanted to talk to Nick.

Which isn't fair on my boyfriend, he deserves a chance.

Things were actually very good with him last night, he made me feel loved and wanted, something I hadn't been feeling ever since our last argument.

Though, when I opened my eyes this morning, he was already gone to work. I didn't even get to cuddle him, or give him a good morning kiss.

Fuck mondays, honestly.

A few hours after that, I am at the library tidying up the shelves, cleaning them slightly when i hear the little bell go off, sign that a client has walked in.

I don't bother turning my head to check who it is, considering Anna-Marie is at the counter, waiting desperately for a customer to walk in.

We usually always have the same clients, couples that have been coming here for thirty years, friends of Anna, students who desperately need a specific book for their classes and just kids who enjoy reading mangas.

It's a small town, and everybody knows each other. It's comforting.

Being at the back of the room usually prevents me from hearing whatever is being said, and today is no different. I only hear a male voice and some mumbling.

I don't focus too much on it considering I am trying to be logical and not mess up the alphabetical order I'm trying to put these books in.

I'm currently on my knees, and if I'm honest, my feet are numb. And my arms are rather sore from carrying these boxes full of books around, too. And I'm still grumpy.

Today is going to be a long day.

You wouldn't think this job is physical, but working with an old woman means you have to do all the things she can't do. Which means pretty much everything.

We're supposed to have new arrivals this week, and I can already tell I'm going to suffer.

"Hi." I hear from behind me and freeze instantly.

It's Nick Nelson.

For some reason I don't turn around just yet, my heart is beating so fast in my chest that I'm pretty sure I'm having a stroke right now.

Why would he show up at my workplace?

After regaining control of my breathing after what feels like minutes, but is actually seconds, I turn around and look up at him.

I am met with Nick's face, he looks down at me with a smile.

"Hi." I repeat, looking at him in disbelief before swallowing the lump that has suddenly appeared in my throat.

Is he an hallucination?

He offers me a hand, and only then I remember that I am still on my knees.

Fucking hell, Charlie, get over yourself.