The Court of Midnight

2: Triumvirate

Fairy Bookstore has the familiar scent of cinnamon and vanilla as I step through its doors.

The sign says it is closed.

Fallon probably had to close the shop early to come and get me. I felt a little guilty, knowing that she had to cut her day short. Business was slower than usual and almost nobody bought physical copies of books these days. She had taken over the shop as soon as she had graduated from college, eager to start her own business.

I admire Fallon's enthusiasm but sometimes I think she can bite off more than she can chew.

Fallon's hand was cold as she yanked me out of the car. Darien was parking the car outside. The rain had let up a bit, now a soft drizzle instead of a heavy shower. He was probably brooding as he parallel-parked.

The lights of the books store were off except for the light in the backroom which had a staircase that led to Fallons two bedroom apartment upstairs. I knew this place like the back of my hand.

Fallon bought this place from an old widow who was retiring. Believe it or not, it was a bakery. It was dirt cheap and when she first got the keys, it looked that way. For an entire year, the three of us had transformed the old-school bakery into a nice quaint little bookstore. Darien handled most of the handy work. In college, he studied sculpture and metalwork but given how tough it was to find jobs in that line of work, he worked in a carpentry shop. Fallon bank rolled us with a small fortune she inherited from her grandparents. I painted the walls and managed the social media page, over the months it had slowly turned into a place where college kids could come downtown and buy a book.

It smelled like old books and incense. I left a small trail of drops on the carpet as I walked through. My boots were in my hand.

Fallon was atop the stairs, jiggling with the doorknob. She muttered under her breath. "For the love of—" she twisted the key harshly till it finally gave way. "Oh, never mind."

"You're going to break that thing one day," I said, toeing my boots and socks off. I just pushed them to the side to let them dry.

Fallon was already inside, grabbing spare articles of clothing she had left behind. She precariously balanced three mugs in one hand and a bundle of clothes were nestled underneath her arm. I could see flashes of her blonde hair as she went to and forth, almost gliding as she tried to tidy up her 'messy' apartment.

It wasn't as cramped as other apartments were in the city. It had an open living room with a large ceiling that had been painted dark blue with constellations in gold paint. In the centre was a large blue couch with fluffy cushions that she had found in a garage sale two years ago and a coffee table that Darien had made when the old glass one broke. You could still see traces of the forties with the brick wall and mouldings. The old couple who lived here must've loved this place.

The curtains were a soft tone of pink that kept the light out during the morning.

The kitchen was painted in hues of orange and yellow which made the cramped space look bigger than it was. I could smell the herb plants as I walked past, looking for Fallon. Darien liked his plants, they were pretty much his. There were candles everywhere, some of which were still lit. I blew them out one by one. The last thing we needed was a fire.

It felt so eclectic but so much like her. I just felt a sense of comfort here. It felt lived in like a home was supposed to be.

"Don't mind the mess." She said from the kitchen closet where the washer and dryer was. "Don't be fooled. I'm usually more organised."

"What mess?" I said, squeezing the wet towel they had given me over the sink. She took it from my hands before I could hang it up. "Hey!"

"Go change out of your wet clothes," she said, pointing at her bedroom door. "And before you say you're fine, I have your clothes from the last time."