The Book That Fell For You

Hello

Hello. My name is... W-Well.. I do not have a name. At least not yet, and no this is not an Author's Note idiot. Yes I called you an idiot get over it!

Excuse me... I'm sorry.. I-I just haven't been opened in so long. What do you mean "OPENED" oh, OH. You haven't realized it yet have you? I am the book, I am the book that is speaking to you. Surprised aren't you? You though this was going to be another X Reader thing of thing huh? Well it's not. I am a living online book, my soul trapped inside these pieces of paper on your screen.

Sorry, it means we got off on the wrong foot. Let's try again, what is your name?

...... T-that's a very beautiful name... It reminds me of my... of my... Oh! Please forgive me! It seems my mind must of wandered off. Would you mind if I called you glass? Oh who am i kidding I'm going to call you glass. Why? Why not your real name? W-well... I'll just call you glass. And no I'm not going to tell you why I'm calling you glass or what I meant earlier!

Please, don't question me. We could be good friends, it's been forever since someone last found me. Will you come back later, even if you have to leave? But it's alright if you don't want too! It's alright it's a-

Your going to stay... with me..? Thank you I can't tell you how much I appreciate it! It's good to be able to talk to someone again.. The last girl.. A beautiful and kind girl, or so I thought. Threw me away after she got mad at the stories I tell.

Do you like stories? I have many of them! I'd be glad to tell you all of them! Stories of romance! Adventure! Betrayal! Horror! Humor thousands of stories! You see I used to be a regular plain journal, to a wonderful girl. She travelled everywhere and always took me with her, writing the adventures she took and the stories she heard. She had your name... Ironic isn't it? I miss her.. she was my everything...

Do you want to know what happened to her? It was our last adventure together.. She took me to roman, we were visiting the ruins and collecting stories. It was late I still remember everything. October 17, 1845 she was writing down a story of the Greek gods. She loved mythology you know.

It was so quiet, no a sound in site. I don't know how she didn't see him, her lover. A tall man, dark brown eyes, almost black. He was handsome not doubting it, and she loved her almost as much as me. He brought out a knife, and stab-

I-I'm sorry! I can't do this! It's too much! I'm sorry! P-Please give me time to regain my posture, and come back and I'll tell you another story. A story of a prince, how about it?

Thank you, I'll see you later Glass.