A black, heavy cloud hung low above the man's bowed head, the skin between his eyebrows tight with concentration, and frustration.
His large hand gripped the pen gently yet he wrote on the white lined paper aggressively, as if he was mad at it.
On...
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"Good morning!" I sang as I walked into the humble bookstore, and Maria yelped as she nearly spilled tea on her white blouse. I clamped down onto my bottom lip, "sorry, Maria! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to,"
She shook her head, "It's fine, child. I have the world's worst hangover."
I laughed, "Still? Your party was on Saturday! It's Monday,"
She waved me off, "Tsk, tsk. Go stamp some books, Little Daisy," I laughed against as I put my bag underneath thr countertop, and made my way towards the back of the bookstore.
I had been working her for a few years now, when I'm not in school that is. I skipped my last period and came over, and was ready to get on with work.
I sat down in the little circle I had created, surrounded by books — new and old. This was my happy place. This is where I felt most like myself, and most alive.
Books had always been sanctuary for me. Where there was trouble, there was books. Where my mum was threatening to sell me to the mafia, there were books.
Books would never hurt me like them.
I was stamping away, book after book and only getting sidetracked a few times. Hozier was playing through my earphones, and I was in my own little world where nothing would hurt me.
After a while, I couldn't feel my legs anymore so I decided to get up and go make myself a cup of tea. I wore my Doc Martens today, and my favourite white dress. My denim jacket did nothing to help me from the freezing temperatures in London, but at least I looked cute.
Stepping out of the room, I was still listening to music and smiling at customers as I walked past them.
I passed Maria and poked her cheek, and she stuck her tongue out at me whilst she was on the phone. I was in the kitchen, and it was directly across from the counter. So if anyone was standing at thr counter and you were in the kitchen, they'd see you and you'd see them.
Well, anyone but me.
Dancing while making tea proved to be a harder sport than I thought it would be. I dropped the spoon in the sink before I picked up the hot and steaming tea.
But I never got to bring it to my mouth to take a sip.
Vibrant, electrifying blue eyes startled me, and I spilled the burning hot tea over the front of my dress.
I seethe through my teeth as I pulled the soaked fabric away from my body in an attempt to stop it from burning, but it was to no avail.
The sharo clicking of leather shoes drilled through the soft noise of Hozier in my ears. They stopped right in front of me, and I was forced to look skyward.
