18|Shakespeare & glances
Sun streamed in through an opening
of the thick curtains over her room large
windows. She squinted at the light, rubbed her nose, and looked around her room.
As she stretched, she felt a twinge of soreness in her eyes and her back.
As excepted her back got lined scar, due to the hit- making her uncomfortable and hurt whenever she tried to lie on her back.
In the ten hours she's been on her bed, she must have woken up six times. Not for that long each time, but enough to break her sleep into un-refreshing chunks. With every disturbance, there is a new nightmare.
The weekend passed by fast and school came again. Sometimes she regretted going for further education, but her high school education wasn't the best and she wanted a better education, but everything got to end soon, her graduation will be in the next two days and she couldn't wait to go with it.
It will be better- soon.
She thought to herself.
Remembering her father again, she started to feel pity and regret towards him. She had a very bad feeling that something will come up and hurt them both, and caused by her own mother.
Her whom changed- because of unknown reasons, sometimes y/n took it on her heart and started to blame her disability on the problems her parents had.
Maybe she didn't want to be a mother to a sick daughter?
She walks off the school property and thinks about all that's happened over this weekend. A lot it seems like. She doesn't know how she could handle all of it and school. Though she was grateful, she stressed and overthinking way too much.
It was half an hour later when she finally decided she was bored, she was not in the mood to write or to do anything really, therefore she took her way to the bookstore.
Seeing all romance books from Alyssa Cole
to Carolyn Brown, reading the blurb of some.
She walked up the narrow streets to a small bookstore that lay between two clothes boutiques, it was small barely there, almost squished.
Golden hues of the rising sun peek through
the arched window panes as she enter the
library, a cup of coffee in hand.
Tightening a wool throw over her shoulders,A sudden tickle in her nose had her sneezing
again. She realized that the dust and her cold
must've made some sort of pact because once she started, she didn't stop and she ended up sneezing until her cheeks ached and her head felt light from the lack of air.
With watery eyes and a runny, dry nose that she had to wipe with the back of her sleeve every few seconds, she began zigzagging between the shelves randomly, scanning the books' spines to find something-anything-of interest.
But none caught her eye and after what must've been at least half an hour, the books' brown leather covers started to blur together.
A few minutes later, she made it to the very back of the right-side of the library, where it was dark and smelled pungently of mold.
They say that the hurt Sleep is the eneher and literature is the savior. Trading nightmares for literary escape is something that she was used to, it's familiar, it's comforting.
A book has an ending, a conclusion, it's there, on the last page.
Will she or won't she? Books are simple.
Beginning, middle, end.
Am l at the end of a story?
Or at the beginning?
It's a true statement to say you're an avid book lover. Fiction, Non-Fiction, Historical, she's read every genre.
Y/n couldn't help but wonder her eyes in the bookstore- her eyes searching for a certain someone who loved to wear black clothes.
He didn't come.
Two hours passed until a ring of the bookstore door was heard, lifting her eyes to whoever entered the place. Her eyes welcomed the sight of the stranger boy wearing a dark blue hoodie and jeans.
She watched him as he went on about his business skimming the shelves as she continued on with reading about you want to start a scandal- Stuck in the book until she was lured away by a deep voice.
He wasn't talking to her but the bookstore owner.
"Excuse me" eyes flickering up from the page to meet stunning blue hues. "Oh, uh, sorry." The older woman put her book that she was reading and smiled at him."What can I do for you young boy?"
"Do you know if you have any books written in 1605?"
Shocked a bit at the year. Not many people around his age, which must be close to your own, read the legend unless they were assigned too.
"Oh yes of course" stepping from behind the counter.
Heading to the Classic section. "Anything in particular?"
She glanced back at him. "Maybe Shakespeare?" he questioned.
"Ah, a good choice, there is The Tragedy of King Lear." she smiled, stopping in front of the bookshelves. "You've read it?" he inquired.
"I have, I was surprised to hear your request. I don't normally get requests for it for people under forty." She chuckled.
"Looks like we're both two of a kind then" he smiled. The woman reached up, slipping the book from its place.
"I guess so", handing it to him.
"Awesome" he smiled whilst skimming the first page. The women took the moment to get a full look at him.
He had to be at least six foot, and his arms were huge- Damn he looked solid. And very young.
The boy went to his corner and started reading, not fifteen minutes passed and he was rushed back out the store. His steps were rushed as if he was a thief making y/n frown and asking the reason why he was fast.
YOU ARE READING
✓ PLOT TWIST| JAKE
Fanfiction❝what a plot twist you were-❞ She was a Wattpad writer-she writes about him, to escape her small world with her disease- but what happened when she found herself trapped in his? He was her idol, but she didn't that he was a bookworm. He loves readin...
