The Spirit of the Corps » Band of Brothers

59: Can You Imagine

The bookstore was small and cosy, and Charlie felt right at home immediately. The man working behind the cash desk called, "Salut!" when the bell above the door jingled and Charlie gave him a smile.

"Salut," she answered in her best French accent.

"Puis-je vous aider?" he asked.

Charlie looked to Floyd, for whatever reason, who looked right back at her with equal cluelessness written on his face. "Uh, English?" he asked, turning back to the employee.

The Frenchman laughed, though not unkindly. "Can I help you?"

This time, Floyd looked to Charlie. When she shook her head he replied, "No, thank you. We're just looking."

The man nodded and turned back to the book he'd been reading to while away the hours of his shift.

Turning her eyes back to the shelves, Charlie let herself take everything in before she made any further moves into the shop. There were books of all colours, shapes, and sizes on every available surface, all of them in French, and though there were lights on every wall spreading their glow over the room like a heavy shower of rain, there was something hazy about the atmosphere, almost dreamlike. For some reason, Charlie felt like she'd been here before, even though she knew she hadn't been.

It was Floyd shifting his feet behind her that encouraged her to finally start moving. Choosing to start with the shelves to her left, Charlie ran gentle fingers along the spines of the books at her eye level, clueless as to what their titles meant but enamoured by their beauty.

Floyd followed closely behind her as she navigated the store, stopping every time she did to pick up a book that seemed interesting and flick through its pages.

"Still in French?" Floyd joked on one occasion.

Against her better judgement, Charlie laughed. She hadn't been able to help it. "Yes," she replied, trying to sound disapproving of his levity but not doing a good job of it at all.

"You don't have to follow me, you know," she told him when she put the book back and continued through the shelves. "I'll be fine by myself."

"I know," he confirmed. When she looked back at him she found him leaning his shoulder against the shelf, watching her. "But I wanna see it the way you see it."

Charlie's eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Slowly, a crooked smile spread across his face. "When I walked in here, all I saw was a room full of books," he began to explain, but Charlie doubted that the sentiment was true; there was a glint in his eyes, and she knew it hadn't been there before they'd come inside. She would have remembered him looking like that. "But when I looked at you," he continued, oblivious to her thoughts, "you looked like you'd seen something magical." He shrugged, drawing in a deep breath and letting it go slowly. With a single shake of his head, he admitted, "I wanna experience it through your eyes."

Charlie blinked at him. She had no idea what to make of those words. Was she making something of it that it wasn't by blushing, by ducking her head to hide a smile? He was probably just being charming for the sake of it. He probably spoke to all the girls like that.

"Don't flirt with me, Floyd," she said, moving on to the next shelf.

"But you're so cute when you blush," he complained, over-exaggerating the whine in his voice.

So she really had been making something of it that it wasn't.

Stupid. Didn't she know him by now?

"Stop," Charlie told him, turning to point a finger at him and let him see that she wasn't joking before whirling back around again.