BEWITCHED & BOTHERED

25 ✰ Afternoon, October 13th

Magnus was the man in my prescience dreams.

And even though I didn't need further confirmation on the matter, I got it anyway from another dream I had last night. This time, the vision of him was clear as day. His hands, his lips, the salty, cedar wood taste of his skin—I was surprised it didn't occur to me sooner. 

And when he looked at me with a heavy-lidded gaze, grey eyes overflowing with need, I heard his voice saying those words again.

"Come to me."

My stomach flipped at the vivid memory. I must've looked mightily affected, because Nicky was beside me in an instant, staring over my shoulder at the vinyl cover I've picked up.

"'Hounds of Love' by Kate Bush. Good one."

I politely smiled in reply and set the vinyl down. To be honest, I'd only picked it up in the first place because the cover was in the Winterhaven shade of purple. A lot of Enchanters loved Kate Bush—there was a long-standing rumour of her being one of us. Just like how Keanu Reeves was purportedly a vampire.

Maybe Keanu can be my Deflowering One, I pondered sarcastically.

Nicky's hazel eyes sparkled at me, in a way that made me far too nervous.

I was beginning to regret coming to his store, but he'd been so persuasive over the phone that I relented. Eager to put some distance between us, I walked towards another rack of vinyls but to my dismay, Nicky was at my heels everywhere I went, like a security guard on a teenage shoplifter.

"You have a very cool shop," I remarked and moved away for the millionth time.

He rubbed that back of his neck bashfully, stepping closer.

"Thanks, I'm happy you like it," he said.

The interiors of SoNick Records was quaint, if not a little musty. But knowing Nicky, he probably kept it that way for the aesthetic reasons. The shop was encased by exposed brick walls and flooring made out of unlacquered pine. 

There were scuffs on the wood, some fresh, others faded over the years, lending a rich sense of unspoken history to the place. Woven tapestry hung on the walls among vintage band posters, while a heavy perfume of incense and damp wood misted in the air.

It was a hipster's paradise.

"I do like it," I said honestly, absorbing every little quirky detail in the record store.

Nicky's brow rose, as if he just remembered something. "I have something for you!" he exclaimed and bumbled towards the counter next to the entrance, his sizeable frame ducking behind it. I approached the counter hesitantly, not really liking where this was going.

As of a few seconds ago, I realised Nicky had a crush on me.

I just hoped it wasn't as strong as I feared.

I rubbed my clammy palms against the sides of my cashmere sweater in anticipation. After a few seconds, the rustling stopped and Nicky's head popped up from the counter with a toothy grin across his lips.

With gentle fingers, he slid a plastic-wrapped record onto the counter. The cover was blood red with a monotone portrait of a man in the centre—Freddie Mercury, with his iconic thick moustache. The title 'I WANT TO BREAK FREE' was like an ironic cue that I did want to break free.

From this situation. Right now.

"1984. First Edition." Nicky's voice was tinged with schoolboy ardour.