quartz street ➢ brad simpson [au]

two

// monday //

He was wearing black. 

It was the darkest of colors; something so mournful and most avoidable on such a bright, sunny day. Although, the heat of the sun didn't seem to bother him that much. 

He would merely opt for some sunglasses, which would sit at the bridge of his nose at times. But he would always stick to the color of his choice, which was black.

I never really understood why he was like that - so mysterious. I couldn't read him like an open book; he was more complex than that. Kind of like a story that keeps you on your toes.

Though maybe the color he wears reflects him. 

Black was definitely a cryptic color. It seemed to have a hidden meaning; something with secrets kept inside. 

That was exactly him.

All this analyzing began when we both, somehow, started working at our respective shops two weeks ago. 

I worked at a vintage bookshop, owned by a kind, middle-aged woman at Quartz Street. It was right across where he worked at - a coffee shop. 

Our breaks were almost simultaneous; there was a fifteen-minute gap. I always go out at two o'clock in the afternoon, carrying a book lent by Mrs. Johnson, who was my employer.

Admittedly, I was a bookworm, hence I chose to work here, where I was in the vicinity of books. I think it's the same way for him. He never failed to bring out a beverage from the coffee shop at two fifteen. 

I tried not to make it obvious that I was observing him, but sometimes, our gazes would meet, and the distance would make me fail to notice the proper shade of his eyes. The only thing I surely concluded was that he would always have a drink with him, while wasting the hour away.

On the other hand, I'd read through the book I had, while finding time to sneak glances at him as he blew his coffee, which I haven't confirmed, before drinking. 

That was how my days usually went, ever since two weeks ago. Needless to say, it was one of the things I looked forward to every day.

Besides that, I always found it quite interesting that whenever there was a coffee shop, there would be a book shop nearby. Vice versa, as well. 

But maybe that's just the way it is; the two are meant to be close to one another.