NUMINOUS | Harry Styles

FOUR

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Vera immersed herself in the world of books at the quaint bookstore which has become more than a workplace; it was a second home. The scent of aged paper and ink enveloped her as she organized shelves and arranged displays with a meticulous touch. The bookstore, a haven for literary enthusiasts, beckoned customers with its cozy ambiance and the promise of undiscovered stories.

It was quite funny how perfect this job was, and the timing of it all. Everything just fell into place when she moved to this town. A couple of months ago, Vera made the daring decision to uproot her life and seek a new chapter in Willowbrook.

Tired of the constant relocation due to her mother's job and the constant stream of enrolling into new schools. It has didn't help that the only other family member she had was her granny, who she only got to see over the summer; Vera yearned for stability, a place where she could cultivate roots and have a sense of community.

With the simple desire to belong and know every other person in town, she arrived with a vision of crafting her own family within a close-knit community. When she settled in the charming town, less than a week after moving in, she noticed a small, weathered sign at the entrance of a bookstore: "Help Wanted."

The enchanting bookstore, nestled between the cobblestone streets, radiated a charm that drew her in like a beacon. The timing was uncanny, as if the universe had orchestrated the perfect opportunity for her.

Vera occupied the small space behind the register, her fingers absently shuffling through the stack of books neatly arranged beside her, patiently waiting for eager readers to claim them. The bell above the door jingled, announcing a customer's arrival. Vera turned to offer a friendly greeting, the words dying on her lips when she saw who it was.

Harry, looking just as scruffy and irritated as ever, browsing the sections. Vera watched him from the corner of her eye as she tidied up the front table display. His broad shoulders hunched over as he studied the books intently before selecting a few.

Approaching the register, Harry gave Vera a cursory nod. She rang up his purchases - a couple thick botany textbooks and a pocket guide to regional wildflowers.

"Doing some gardening?" she asked, unable to resist her curiosity.

Harry shrugged. "Research."

Vera smiled. "Let me know if you need any recommendations. We just got new arrivals in last week that looks useful."

"Hm," was his noncommittal reply.

But the next day, Harry returned to purchase the suggested field guide.

Over the next few weeks, he became a regular. Vera learned not to pester him with too many questions, keeping the conversation to the books he browsed. His replies remained terse, but the bristling hostility she first encountered had diminished.

One blustery afternoon, the shop was empty save for the two of them. As Vera re-alphabetized the mystery section, she asked, "Finding everything you need today?"

Harry glanced up from the novel he was skimming. "Trying to, at least." He hesitated. "You seem to know your stuff. Any other books about the belladonna plant?" Vera's brows furrow in deep thought, "Uh, it's also commonly known as deadly nightshade." Harry continued when she took a while to respond.

Vera's face lit up. "I know just the one. Follow me." She led him to a corner shelf and pulled down a thick volume. "It's very thorough - diagrams, photographs, harvesting tips. One of my favorites to flick through when it's a slow day.."

Harry flipped through the pages, his eyes brightening. "Exactly what I was hoping for."

He looked so pleased that Vera's heart gave an odd flutter. There was more to this prickly man than she first realized. She found herself wishing he would linger and chat, but the opportunity never arose.

What was it about this man that was so intriguing? He was clearly not interested in making friends with her, yet Vera felt hung up on him.

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Curiosity had nestled itself into Vera's mind like an insistent whisper, prompting her to seek more about the enigmatic man, Harry. After learning his name that was all she thought about.

She began asking around about him among her friends and people in town. Each person she questioned, the same consistent narrative emerged about him. Vera's friends shared their impressions, noting that he was quiet and reserved, often keeping to himself.

While she was having lunch with her friend Lily at the local café, Vera decided to bring it up. "Do you know anything about a guy named Harry?"

Lily raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of her iced tea. "Harry? Curly hair? Yeah, I've seen him around. He's a bit of a recluse, isn't he?"

Vera nodded, leaning in. "That's him. He's been coming into the bookstore a lot lately. I've tried talking to him, but he's... well, not the most talkative."

Lily chuckled. "That sounds about right. I've heard he lives alone, out on the edge of town. Keeps to himself mostly, but everyone knows he's got a cat he's really attached to. Other than that, he's pretty much a mystery."

"Has he always been like that?" Vera asked, her curiosity growing.

"As far as I know," Lily replied with a shrug. "He's not unfriendly, exactly, just... distant. Like he doesn't want to let anyone in."

Vera mulled over Lily's words.

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As if Lily's words weren't enough to satisfy her curiosity, Vera found herself seeking out more information about Harry from other people in town. She casually brought up his name in conversations, weaving her questions into the context of everyday small talk.

"He's always been like that," remarked Niall, one of Vera's friends. "Mysterious, you know? But he's harmless. Lives a quiet life, takes care of his cat."

The barista at the cafe echoed the same sentiment. "Never one to chat but he tips well. Quiet type."

"He's got this cat, Shadow, I think. He cares for it like it's his family," Zayn, a neighbor who lived a few houses down from Harry, explained while wiping the bar counter. "Doesn't say much, but he's nice though."

The snippets of information painted a picture of a man who chose solitude, finding solace in the tranquility of his own world. Vera's inquiries consistently circled back to two essential details: he lived in the town, and he harbored a deep affection for his feline companion.

Another encounter led Vera to a conversation with Mrs. Jenkins, the elderly lady who frequented the bookstore. Mrs. Jenkins, with a twinkle in her eye, shared a tale of how Harry once rescued a stranded kitten from a tree. "Quiet as a mouse, that man, but he's got a heart as soft as they come. Climbed up that tree like a squirrel to save that little furball."

Vera knew she sensed a gentle soul underneath that standoffish exterior. And she had to admit, part of his mysterious aura intrigued her.

Sarah, the town's florist, revealed, "He grows the most beautiful flowers and herbs. His green thumb sure speaks volumes." She spoked while arranging the fresh bouquet of tulips that Vera had gotten herself for her kitchen table. "Just glad he doesn't sell them or I'd be out of a job." Sarah laughed.

Vera absorbed all of the information.

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