Silas was strange.
Why any normal twenty-one year old boy would want to spend his time working at an old nearly-abandoned bookstore was completely beyond me.
Yes, twenty-one years old.
Silas Bridges. Third-year literature student with zero presence on social media, two overdue library books, one unpaid parking ticket, lived with his mom and twelve year old sister.
I did my research.
Mr.Miller's bookstore was small and smelled like dust, paper, and spearmint. Behind the counter sat an aloof Silas, one hand caught in his hair as he read what seemed to be a comic book. He didn't as much as look up as I walked into the store, not that he would've recognized me.
My naturally hazel eyes were sporting dark brown contacts and my curly hair was pulled back into a hat. The small scar on my right cheek was concealed with makeup.
Another day, another disguise.
Running my fingers across the spines of the endless books, I walked from one aisle to the next, until I reached the fantasy section.
Books upon books about princesses and princes and witches and warlocks were stacked messily on top of each other. A faint smile conquered my lips.
At one point in my life, fairy-tales were my favorite. No one who knew me would ever believe that, but I, like every other little girl, did dream about a Happily Ever After.
Until I learned how to render someone unconscious within five seconds.
After that, Happily Ever Afters just seemed like the hopes and dreams of the naive..
People read about them in order to consolidate for the fact that they never got theirs.
Quietly, I walked towards the other end of the store, not enjoying the nostalgia that was brought about by short-lived childhood memories. My gaze landed on the giant clock above the shelves.
9:50p.m.
I had been in the bookstore observing him for about ten minutes and decided that I'd approach him outside after his shift was over.
He obviously liked to keep to himself, but I knew that my approach had to be somewhat intimidating. Growing up, I'd learned not to judge a book by its cover. And in this scenario, my mother's journal was involved, so I couldn't take any chances with Silas.
In one quick motion, I pushed over a small stack of books, startling Silas and bringing him out of his trance.
"Wha--uh, who's there?" He walked cautiously around the desk and towards the mess, his eyes darting around the store, skin pale.
I hadn't meant to startle him; I just needed to distract him so that I could slip out of the door by his desk. His gaze darted towards the mess, but he didn't spot me, as I hid behind the shelves. He jumped up from his seat and began walking towards the books on the ground, his curls bouncing with each step. I moved silently behind the bookshelves and made my way towards the door, slipping out into the frigid night.
The air was cold, biting at my bare neck as I stood against the brick exterior, my back against the wall. Cars drove past every minute or so, music emanated from a bar down the street, and the laughter of the children could be heard, but still it felt like I wasn't quite alive.
Surreal was the word.
I felt like an outsider, watching a naive world crumble.
Quiet whistling brought me out of my thoughts and I slowed my breathing so that my presence became silent. Silas stumbled out of the door, locking it swiftly and tucking the keys behind his pocket.
YOU ARE READING
Secret Silver | hiatus
Adventure❝she is fire; he is ice❞ Cunning, forlorn spy Zara Dubois knew that her life would never be normal. After growing up as the daughter of the head of a spy agency, normal was never an option. It wasn't after her mother died that she learned her entire...
