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The ambrosial effect of each turn had you floating; the distilled dust of woodsy scented pages were printed with boldened words that transported you to an alternate reality

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The ambrosial effect of each turn had you floating; the distilled dust of woodsy scented pages were printed with boldened words that transported you to an alternate reality. There weren't many things you enjoyed in life— dismal as it may seem— but books had always been your absolute favorite source of serotonin.


The little bookshop on the corner was one you frequented often. It was a hole in the wall type of place, not many patrons except for the locals who knew about the hidden gems you could only find on these particular shelves— but of course, that's how you liked it. Things were quiet enough for you to grab a cup of coffee and sample some new material you were considering to purchase, with just enough bustle to keep the business afloat.


The aisles were seemingly empty today, per usual of a Sunday afternoon. Most people were at home relaxing, getting ready for another hectic work week ahead, which you could certainly agree on; this was your own relaxation routine to fight off those pre-monday blues.



Still feeling the ardor effects of your Friday night tryst, you head to the section of the shop where you could find a book with a bit more eroticism— admittedly so, a steamy, well-written smut was always a guilty pleasure of yours.


Reaching out to grab a title that catches your eye, a sudden shift in atmosphere alerts your attention to the man standing just a few inches away from you. He's handsome, in a boyish, 'prince charming' sort of way— bright blue eyes and a silky blonde undercut styled to perfection. He's wearing a pair of glasses perched on his button nose and a faint, dusty rose tinted blush on his porcelain cheeks; his style fairly plain if not studious, by the way he pairs his stark white air forces with khaki cargos and a corded cardigan sweater.



"That one's pretty good, actually. Especially if you're into the enemies to lovers trope."


When he speaks, his plush lips pout out ever so slightly, glistening with remnants of his tongue after he licked them out of nervous habit. It makes you wonder what someone like him was doing in a section like this— he certainly didn't seem to fit the bill. Assumptions aside, you offer him a smile and a polite 'thank you.'


Decorum | A. Arlert [ON HOLD] Where stories live. Discover now