c h a p t e r. 14

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"It is a strange phrase, 'falling in love,' said one of the princesses in the tower. Tears stood out on her cheeks, and even these were pretty, reflecting the blue sky above her. 'It sounds like something you do accidentally, by yourself. But isn't someone else always to blame? They should call it strangling in love. Walloped in love. Knocked-out-of-nowhere in love.'"
—Lauren Oliver

chapter 14

It's been a week since Conway started to sit at their table and he hasn't left since— unfortunately.

He still pissed Bar the fuck off and at first, he tried to flirt with the little goddess but after a few clever and humiliating retorts from Clementine herself, the fucker learned to stop.

Bar was thankful for that much.

He didn't know how for how much longer he could've listened to the brunette make sexual comments and innuendos without knocking the guy flat on his ass but Bar knew it would've been soon.

His little goddess was getting bolder when he flirted too, flashing Bar with a cheeky smile before saying something subtly dirtier back to him and occasionally making a comment that made the brute want to bend her over his lap and spank her for saying what she did but equally made him want to take her right then and there.

Bar wanted to kiss her an ungodly amount.

He always wanted to.

And, just like he thought, the urge hasn't stopped and he doesn't think it ever will.

They were at Bar's apartment, 'studying' as Clementine liked to call it but really she was just reading and Bar was being a creep— thoroughly enjoying doing so— and watching her as she got sucked into the world of faeries and politics and lethally structured rhymes that her book brought to life.

He had read the book before, so he knew what it was about and he even had his own copy laying around somewhere.

In every room besides the kitchen and bathroom— but on the balcony, there was a large bookshelf one of the walls and every single one was filled to the brim with books.

And when Bar ran out of room on the shelves, his tables and countertops and any surface became packed with books, too.

He had at least a thousand alone sprawled around his somehow still neat living room and even more in his actual room.

It wasn't his fault that reading had become addicting.

Bar was a book nerd and so was Clementine.

But he had a sneaking suspicion that even though he read an exceptional amount, she read even more.

It was fascinating, honestly.

Bar never met someone who... was so sympathetic towards fictional characters.

He liked reading because he could escape reality without dying but the little goddess— oh, the little goddess looked like she enjoyed reading because it created new people to love, new bonds to make, and secrets to learn.

Watching her read was like watching a whole world be created.

Bar couldn't look away, he couldn't force his gaze to part from her; feeling that, if he did so, the magic he felt would go up in flames.

But, also needing to climb back out of the black hole that sucked his attention away from everything aside from Clementine, Bar stood up from his couch and began to walk towards his kitchen.

"Food time, sweetness," He called over his shoulder.

No response.

Bar paused and turned, knowing she was stuck in her own little bubble separate from him and this world's crushing truths.

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