Sawyer/Reader as requested
The only pleasant pastime of being stranded and losing all hope was curling up on the soft sand while a book was sleeping in your fingers, eyes taking in every word intensely with this soothing distraction. You always read, it was one of those activities you didn't do much anymore and ever since the crash you were reunited with that past love of literature you had.
The other person who shared the same interest you did happened to be a certain southern blond who went by the name of Sawyer.
You didn't hate him as much as everyone on the island seemed to have. In fact, you didn't hate him at all. You had no reason to, he was a jerk to about everyone here and you were one of the exceptions. You were patient, displeased with some of the selfish stunts he'd pull and rude snarky comments that he probably got from reading so much, but he didn't treat you the same way. Besides, you thought there was a reason he acted this way. He kept walls so high to push everyone away, to make himself hated and you couldn't understand.
Intense emotions lingered in the blue puffs of his eyes, emotions he didn't want to feel and didn't want anyone else to know about. You hardly talked to him but when you two conversed he was polite, his nicknames for you were more on the sweet side- compared to what he called some people. You were chatting once about a book you were reading, the one you brought with you on his flight. He'd never heard of it but right as he was about to open up some more Kate had to call for you attention, needing some help. He looked a little annoyed and a tad disappointed this relaxed interaction was cut short before it became anything. You were the only one he didn't have to put up this act with, and he couldn't wonder why. Everyone in general tried to make little to no contact with him, only if it were some life or death situation that just killed them having to endure. But you always believed there was some reason Sawyer was the way he was.
He was a mystery even if he didn't seem like one. A cigarette would dangle from his mouth, inhaling in the sickening fumes and his intense blue eyes drawing out the outside world as his mind shut and was only processing plots and dialogue. Well, at least he was smoking cigarettes.. he seemed to have ran out from his pack and unfortunately for him there was no nearby convenient stores. You didn't even know his real name, Sawyer clearly being a nickname.
Sawyer had another vice though, and that was alcohol. He robbed all the liquor off the plane, saving the coarse drinks for himself. That wasn't all he stole.. Whatever he touched was his, Hell sometimes people had to go up to him and ask him for whatever they needed, almost like he was selling it to them. It got even more interesting when people tried to rob off him.
Apart of the stuff he stole were a bunch of books, and magazines, and you could've sworn you saw a script of some sort with the hidden literature. You only had two books with you, and with all the commotion going on you just got around to finishing the two novels up. Two novels you never touched that resided among the many more unopened ones, wasted words that would've been a fulfilling pastime story. Since he seemed to be a dealer of everything you could imagine the thought of asking him for something to read blew in your mind. He had a softer spot for you, why would he resist?
You found yourself walking to his private shelter one typically sunny afternoon, sinking in boredom without having the familiar feel of soft paper at your fingertips. You never realized how much you missed doing this.
Catching him in a bad time, his eyes were scanning some piece of paper that seemed to be a letter. As high as he lifted those walls, as much as he tried to make people stay away from him it wasn't hard to see the extreme emotions that lifted to his face in that very moment. Your heart ached and clouds of sympathy overshadowed any distaste for a fucked up phrase or action he did. The paper looked aged, like it's been folded a million times and as if he could recite the entire thing while sleep talking.
