Timeless *REWRITTEN* (Beetlejuice x Reader)

Chapter 7

I came into the house in a flurry of emotions, all of them new and exciting. I had never felt this way about anyone before. It was all new to me. I had heard my sisters talk about different soldiers they fancied or daydreaming about their future weddings someday, but I never related to them in that aspect. I just hadn't ever felt that same way about any of the men in my life. Most of them were either soldiers who stood for everything I stood against, or were twice my age. So I never found myself having anything beyond surface-level attraction. Every once in a while I would spot a sailor or soldier that I would find appealing as far as physical appearances were concerned, but that was as far as it ever went.

So now, having met Lawrence, I was confused, but in a wonderful sort of way. I was perplexed at myself; I had only met this man once, and yet he continually plagued my mind. Not in a bad way, to be sure. It was just... different, was all.

I sat in my bedroom a couple of days after my outing with Melody, attempting to read the novel in front of me. It was proving to be overwhelmingly difficult, and as my mind continued to wander piano-playing gentleman, the words on the page began to swim and blur. I sighed in frustration and snapped my book closed, my gaze reluctantly drifting over to a certain coat hanging on the hook in the wall near my bedroom door. I chewed on the inside of my cheek absentmindedly. I still had to return it to its owner.

The owner of that godforsaken coat that wouldn't get out of my head.

I stood, shaking my head. I chastised myself for being silly even as I walked over to the garment. I picked it up off of the rack, trailing my hands over it thoughtfully. I had to get it out of my house and out of my mind. I didn't have the time nor the headspace to obsess over this random person I had interacted with only once before.

Groaning, I fell back onto my bed, considering what exactly my plan of action would be going forward. I knew my first step would be getting this coat back to Lawrence, and as soon as possible. I sat up on my bed, resolute in my decision to venture out on my own and give him the coat that very evening at the parlor. I knew the address, and I knew I could at least pretend I wasn't nervous at all. If I was going to step into life as a New Yorker, I was going to have to grow a backbone and not be so timid about adventure and new experiences.

I was startled out of my introspection by a light rapping on my closed door. A moment later, my aunt poked her head into the room.

"(Y/N)?"

Her gaze shifted from me sitting on the bed to the coat I still had firmly grasped in my hands. She arched a brow almost imperceptibly.

"What's that you've got?" she asked me curiously.

I quickly threw the garment down onto the bed next to me, an unexplainable urge to hide it from my aunt clutching my inner being.

"Nothing," I said quickly. Too quickly.

Auntie Romelda studied me in mild concern. "(Y/N), what's going on? You know you can talk to me," she added, coming into my room and sitting in the armchair across from me.

I sighed, deciding that I might as well glean whatever wisdom my aunt had in regards to men, romance, and life in general.

"I met someone, recently," I began, fiddling with my hands absentmindedly. Surprisingly, I found that I wasn't nervous, but instead worried that my aunt would somehow think less of me because I was having confusing thoughts and emotions about a man I'd met. Thinking through this sentiment, I realized how ridiculous that sounded. After all, Auntie Romelda wasn't my father. She had also been a young girl, once. One who had fallen in love with my uncle.

"Met someone?" my aunt echoed, a glimmer of knowing excitement flashing in her eyes. They flicked down to the article of clothing next to me. "Is that his coat?"