(A/N: This one is probably going to be so taky and unlikely but you know, living life like a rebel has its costs. hope you enjoy!)
Your POV
Money. Usually there's never enough of it and, quite frankly, I am one of those people who can't handle a grip on the checks I recieve. So that's why I can't quit this stupid job. At first, this place seemed so awesome and chill and just all around great. But now that I've been working here for the past two months, my hatred for it grows exponentially.
Basically, it's your typical Barnes and Noble with a coffee shop that probably has the worst wifi ever yet people still use it all the time. It gets worse, count on that. Every night there's this event where people come and read poems or monologues and you wouldn't believe how many hipsters roam throughout the library. My record on the amount of people in the room with beards on their chins is at sixteen right now.
I know I shouldn't be so judgemental but I've lost all respect for the people that walk in and out of those doors ever since the other night. This group of six or seven people escaped from the coffee section and wandered through the book shelves. As the loyal employee that I am, I kept my eyes peeled. They ended up walking into my favorite fiction aisle and it's almost impossible to think anyone would say what one of the guys said.
"Huh- The Catcher in the Rye. Like Holden Caufield would know what a phony looks like. He himself was a phony, right guys?" and the whole group chuckled together. Ohh, no one would've believed the anger I felt. Honestly, I rarely read many books, but the books that I do read almost always have a special connection to me. Especially The Catcher in the Rye.
Then these asswipes had the audacity to come up to my register and ask to buy the book. I had to hold back so many emotions just to keep myself from kicking them onto the streets where they belong. But, like I said, money was the first thing I'd lose if I did such a thing so I faked a smile and let them leave. I can only hope the book ended up under someones bed and not in a fire pit.
To my dismay, I got the night shift to cover for Janice so she could rekindle her relationship or some shit. I could handle a few hipsters if it meant an overtime check. So I took my regular spot at the register that happened to be quite far from the coffee part, but close enough that I could hear the speakers. Sometimes you'd actually get some meaningful ideas out of the speeches. I pulled a magazine over the counter to keep myself occupied until I needed to control a group of 'not-so-wannabes'.
After an hour of finger snaps and two mental cases that needed to be thrown out, I finally saw someone who went to rummage the books. This man was alone but seemed so sketchy, almost like he was looking to rob the place. But why rob from a library, I mean, how bad could someone want a book? I tried to avoid eye contact but I always peered under my lashes to keep a good look out. Eventually, he found his book and walked over to me. Before I rung him up, I was finishing two sentences in an article about one of the Kardashians when he finally cleared his throat. I set the magazine to the side and offerred him a slight smile.
"How do you read that garbage?" his raspy voice spat at me. Literally spat. I wiped under my eye where his saliva landed and didn't respond.
"Did ya hear me, toots? That magazine you've got right there, is garbage!" he shouted at me. You could hear the slurs in the little pet name he gave me and I was less than amused.
"I'm sorry that you dislike my taste, sir, but I don't wish to explain myself to you," I barked. It was now that I became very afraid because his meaty hand reached over the counter and gripped my arm.
"Oh, nobody talks to me like that and get's away with it," the man seethed at me. His grip was getting so tight and I couldn't help but whimper.
"Please let go of me, I didn't mean to start trouble," I cried. Yet he continued to enclose his fist around my arm.
All of a sudden, some other person comes up behind the man, steals the book he was about to purchase and runs off. Obviously the drunk man caught notice and finally let go of my arm to chase after him. My arm was regaining circulation so I didn't even bother running after the two. What a night. First I'm worried about some hipsters getting snarky then I get hurt by some intoxicated customer and end up watching his book getting stolen. My mind is so all over the place that I decide to sit under the desk for the rest of my shift.
About twenty minutes later, I hear a light voice over the counter call out, "Hello, I have your book back."
I'm hesitant to get up from my spot but my curiosity carries my legs. I'm met by emerald eyes that are full of worry. He has a mop of hair, that's for sure, because its all put up by some sort of bandana. And underneath his hair you can see an earring on each of his almost nonexistent ears. Out of all the insults I could make for such a hipster look, I had nothing to say to this boy. I'm going to admit this now so my conscience doesn't beat me up later; I would totally bang this guy right here and now if he asked me to.
"Oh, hi...Are you-" I'm cut off.
"The guy who ran off with the drunk man's book? Yeah, that would be me," he nonchalantly says while sliding the book across the counter. I glance at the title and it turned out to be Oprah's latest autobiography. Odd.
"Out of all the books I would think a drunk man would want to read, Oprah's autobiography is the last thing," I laughed. His smile grew wider as he laughed along with me. That's it, I've only seen him for a solid two minute and I'm already addicted to his face. I really must have some sort of hormonal issue because this is out of hand.
"I completely agree. Hey, um, I'm not really sure if you're okay to talk about this but, uh, did he hurt you? Like badly hurt you?" he questioned. I had forgotten about the pain of the assualt and never even minded to check for damage. I slid my arm out to him and it was extremely swollen and most likely starting to bruise. I turned away as he inspected my arm. He actually rubbed my arm before giving it back and I completely let go of the hurt.
"He has no right to get away with this, drunk or not. So, after being chased by the baboon, I captured a picture of his liscense plate on my phone as he drove away. You know, just in case," he showed me his phone. My eyes went wide at the generosity that this man had for just one scene he happened to stumble upon. I was so overwhelmed and all I did was hug him from across the counter. At first he was unsure, but then he hugged me back and it felt amazing.
I pulled away and smiled at him, "Thank you so much-"
"Harry. My name's Harry," he replied.
"I'm (Y/N)."
His eyes twinkled under the tiny light I had in my space. The rest of my shift, I allowed him to sit behind the counter with me and we discussed our favorite books. I really hope Harry is going to stick around for a while.
