to the moon. /m.c./

o n e

 I sighed and fixed my hair one more time. It had only been three weeks since I started working at this bookstore, and I already hated it. I was constantly slacking off, spending the majority of my time reading in the corner, hoping that some miracle would happen so I'd never have to work again.

On this very gloomy Thursday, I was weaving between the shelves of the store, my brown hair in a messy bun at the top of my head. I was wearing minimal makeup, minus the eyeliner I always wore. I sported black nail polish that was already getting chipped, and the small tattoo on my wrist peeked past my sleeve.

As if my day couldn't get any worse, I found a stack of books on the floor, left alone by some rude customer. I groaned and knelt down, looking through the books. The first one I saw made me smile. Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. A great read. I could remember reading this on an airplane and getting so into it that the flight attendant startled me. I stifled a chuckle and picked up the book, glancing at the one underneath it.

Dracula. This book I hadn't ever read, but I'd heard incredible things about it from my friends. I opened the book and began reading, I got to page five before I noticed someone standing above me.

"Book fan?"

My cheeks went bright red with embarrassment. "Oh—are these yours? I'm so sorry... I—" This was the rude customer?

"It's completely fine. Don't worry. Actually, I could use some advice." The man sat down next to me and rearranged his pile of books until they were all on the floor and completely visible.

"Sure," I said, looking at the different books he had there.

He smiled, his eyes crinkling. "What's your name?"

I smiled back at him, my cheeks turning a slight red color. "Josie. What's yours?"

With a smirk, he ran a hand through his bright red hair. "I'm Michael."