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After an entire night of sleep, I still have no idea what I'm going to do for Elliot today, or with him rather. I don't even know how he's planning on seeing me today.
I continue to flip through the pages of my book, but it doesn't seem to entertain me as much as it did twenty-four hours ago. I know it's because I'm anxious for Elliot's arrival. I still have four hours left to work and, for the first time in a while, I'm not looking forward to it.
Having Elliot here yesterday was fun. Now that I've experienced that, sitting and reading a book for hours on end is not as appealing to me. I should have taken his phone number or something.
I sigh and set my book down, walking out from behind the counter. I gravitate towards the back of the shop and decide I'll look at all the piles of art there and make my way forward. Everything is stacked so tall in the back, I fear I might get lost.
But it turns out, exploring is a lot more fun than I'd imagined it would be. I found a cracked iPod with a bunch of Icelandic music on it—and I'll admit, it wasn't bad. I also came across a children's joke book. Against my better judgement, I read through most of it, physically pained by the quality of the puns, but still finding them oddly addicting.
I lay on the floor, turning the pages of this cringe-worthy joke book while Björk's "It's Oh So Quiet" echoes in my ears. When the bell on the door rings, I don't notice at first. With all my time working here, I've become satiated to that noise. I hardly ever realize when it echoes through the building under normal circumstances, but especially not while fervently reading a joke book as an Icelandic goddess serenades me.
"Um, Tess?" A voice calls. I gasp and widen my eyes, ripping the headphones out of my ears and sitting up, throwing the joke book across the room in a frightened panic. My heart skips a beat.
Elliot.
Crawling on my hands and knees, I retrieve the book and place it back on the table I grabbed it from. I stand and brush myself off, briskly walking to the front of the shop.
I see Elliot's tall frame standing by the door. His torso is adorned with a plain, white shirt and a pair of black jeans that hug his legs comfortably. He carries something in his right hand, but I can't really see what it is.
"Elliot." I say and he looks up, smiling when his eyes land on me. I make my way over to him, trying to mask my excitement. He came to see me. He has no idea how badly I wanted him here. "Hi." I smile up at him.
"I'm glad you're here. I wasn't even sure if you were working today." He says and moves whatever he's holding from his right hand to his left. In this moment I notice that his nails are painted a dark blue color. It looks good on him, but I choose not to comment on it.
I want to say I'm glad you're here. I was dying of boredom, but that doesn't sound as nice as what he said.
"What is that?" I ask, pointing to the object in his hand.
