Inconspicuously Obvious

Chapter 5

A/n Wrens hair above. Thank you for reading  <3

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At last the heavenly shrill frees us from another torturous A-level class of Biology, everyone exits the classroom as quickly as possible. Well everyone except from me. I'd rather not get crushed to a pulp by the pack of over-enthusiastic teenagers, no offence.

I sling my bag of my shoulder as I head towards the now clear exit, swarms of people head towards the car park considering most of classes are done for the day. Instead if joining the groups, I force myself towards the library. By force I mean skip. I volunteer to help Miss Darcy (well wren to me) our school's librarian, she is beautiful unlike the stereotypical elderly lady. As I pull open the door to a place of knowledge and wonder I am immediately tackled by the smell of imagination and the sound of nothing but the turning of pages.

Sitting behind the center desk is Wren; hiding behind a leather-bound book. A common sight for the regulars. Her hair is a waterfall flowing around her face, darker shades of blue gradually lightening as they reach the tips, vibrant blues intertwine to create a masterpiece. As I approach the desk her icy blue eyes meet my unusual ones, a smile erupts upon her face showcasing her flawlessly white teeth.

"Hey Wren"

"Hiya sweetie" I still don't understand why she calls me that, she's twenty-two! Just four years older than me, yet she acts as if I'm her fragile ten-year-old sister who is yet to come face to face with the cruel world. If only she knew.

"Stop calling me that" I mutter whilst she just laughs. I try to keep a straight face but her laugh is contagious, compelling me to chuckle along with her.

"Okay sweetie, there's nothing for you to do today so go home."

At the mention of home, the smile which had settled upon my face undisturbed like puddle evaporates as quickly as it appeared, Wren seemed to notice it to.

"Or you could just stay here?"

"Yeah, I think I will" I say in a sing song voice, that sounded faker than Santa.

I made my way towards the voices of the stacks of unread books, following they're cries and pleas for my attention. So many beautiful books, but only one comes out on top: Rome and Juliet written by the king of words.

With the book in hand I settle into a cushioned chair, from the second I turn the page I am engrossed with the story. The words swim through my mind, distracting me from the world around me. For me reading stops time, the minute I pick up a book nothing else matters apart from me, everything around me is invisible like me. That may seem selfish but sometimes we've all got to be a little selfish. It's what makes us human.

"I will never understand why people find that book so amazing" A deep voice interrupts my moment; any sane person should know not to interrupt someone midst reading.

"Why?" I say without taking my eyes off the book.

"Because it's a story about to kids who kill themselves because they're stupid enough to believe in love."

Now I rest my eyes upon the figure in black, I can't see his face due to the angle he has sat and the black hoodie shielding his identify from me, but I know he is a boy, if his broad shoulders were not enough to confirm it then his deep voice does.

"I mean when does anything like that ever happen?" He continues, "It's unrealistic, and incredibly cliché."

"Some people don't focus on the obvious storyline but instead focus on the smaller details." I reply dropping my eyes to the book once again, hoping to continue when I am interrupted again.

"Oh yeah? Like what?" Is he serious? He's challenging me on this. Bring it on.

"Like the beauty of Shakespeare's words, he is able to create a piece which is evocative towards many human emotions. That enough is a reason to like the book, but I'm sure that doesn't satisfy such a pessimistic mind like yours so I can go on. The bonds between the character, the contrast between different relationships are so defined that it is difficult not to love. For example, the friendship between Mercutio and Romeo compared to the hatred between Romeo and Tybalt, or the way the nurse is more of a mother towards Juliet rather than Lady Capulet. The story revolves around teenagers, it captures the way teenagers operate to the extreme. I could go on but I really don't want to waste another breath on this argument."

Well I'll be damned, I did not know I had that in me.

For a moment, the boy is silent as he soaks in my words before he lets out a soft chuckle which sends shock through my blood. What does he find funny?

"Wow, I was kidding, I just wanted to hear your opinion. And you didn't disappoint." He chuckles again as he begins to stand up. "It was nice talking to you." And with that he walked away and didn't look back. Leaving a shocked me wondering what just happened.