Early Morning Glory | Harry Styles AU

/00/ crimson

*edited 2020 (I've decided to pick this story up again so I'm re-editing all existing parts to match my style and writing growth as well as to simply make it better! Look for this note at the top of all existing chapters to check that they have been updated this year or else read at your own risk)

I walked over to the classical romance section of the shop and shoved three newly traded books onto the shelf. Unfortunately, a lot of people were more willing to get rid of these books than they were to read them. Soon we were going to need another shelf.

When the little bell on the top of the door gave a small ring I wandered to the front of the shop, getting ready for the usual 'Welcome to Crimson's Bookstore! How may I help you?' but when I saw who it was a smile lit up my face: Mrs. Crimson and her granddaughter.

Mrs. Crimson and her husband had started this shop back in the 60's right after they got married. The walls were the same red color they were originally painted, we still had the same book cases from when the shop first opened, and all transactions were still hand written. The only thing that changed was the amount of books which had majorly increased over the decades. Besides all of that, I think what made the small shop really special was that it was opened twenty-four hours a day, six days a week (it wasn't open on Sundays because Mrs. Crimson saved that day for 'the resting of the soul') and for 4am coffee drinkers and thinkers like me, it was something of a sanctuary.

I came across the shop during one of my many late nights I had spent sitting in front of my computer screen with an empty mug next to me on the counter. I'd been there for at least three hours trying to write something but I had zapped all my creative resources dry. Sleep was out of the question thanks to the four cups of coffee I had already had so I opted for exploring the city.

I was walking down one of the side streets in SoHo when I caught sight of a bright neon sign flickering. I had walked this street so many times before but had never noticed the shop. It had felt like a kind of divine intervention; like I was never meant to notice it until I needed to. When I stepped inside the first thing I noticed was that it was dimly lit (which I later learned that it always was) and packed from wall to wall with books. Bookcases covered every inch of three out of the four walls and cases were also lined up throughout the room as well. The fourth wall had two bookcases and a large wooden desk. In every corner was a big, plush looking arm chair, each one a different color. A few small desks sat in random spots, an old lamp rested on top as well as piles of more books. There were even more stacked messily all around on the floor.

I spent five whole hours there, reading and chatting with Mrs. Crimson and returned every night for the next week. After a while of me helping her out she offered me the job which I gladly took.

Mrs. Crimson helped Julianna onto the big desk near the front. "Auden? Are you here?"

I placed the books on top of the closest pile to me, "Yeah! Be right there!"

I knew something was up the minute she asked me how I was. We never made small talk; neither of us were able to see the point in it when there were too many other interesting, existential crisis inducing matters to discuss. When she started to ask me about my summer plans I cut her off.

"What's really going on here?" An amused smile played on my lips.

She sighed in defeat, "I made that quite obvious, didn't I?" I shook my head yes and she seemed unable to meet my eyes. I started to get nervous and expected the worst. Maybe the shop was closing, maybe she was moving, or maybe she was sick. I silently prayed to God that she wasn't sick.

"Ryan's going away."

"What do you mean, Juls?"

"He told grandma he can't work the night shifts anymore because he's going home." She said as she played with her doll.

"Wait, he's going home, like, back to England?" I didn't think Ryan would ever go back home; he was from a super small country town and always swore to me he could never leave New York—unless it was a matter of life or death, then he could potentially be swayed.

"I'm afraid so." Mrs. Crimson started. "His mom is sick again and he feels that he should be there for her this time around and I think he's right." So this was life or death.

"The night shift is mine isn't it?"

"Yes."

I groaned. It's not that I had anything against working at night because I barely slept anyway but the night time was when I tended to be the most creative, mostly because at this point I was pretty much nocturnal and my brain barely functioned during the day.

"It would only be temporary." She explained. "Just until I find someone to replace Ryan."

I rolled my eyes, "Which we both know is going to take absolutely forever because you're far too picky about who you hire."

"I am not picky! I just know what I want in an employee and that's to have them feel more like family and too be at least a little cultured which is very hard to find these days."

"Yeah, yeah," I let out a soft laugh, "so what time do I need to be here tomorrow?"

"Seven. Be here at seven. You can go on home now though; I'll pick up your shift from here."

A smile over took my face. I loved being here, I really did, but it has been an incredibly slow day and I'm exhausted having gotten less sleep than usual the night before. I thanked Mrs. Crimson before giving Juls and hug goodbye and her a kiss on the cheek.

I wasn't surprised to find my brother sitting on my couch when I opened the door to my apartment. He turned up here often, so often I didn't know why he didn't just move in.

"You're home early." He shoved a handful of chips into his mouth.

"Yeah, Mrs. Crimson took over for me." I put my bag on the table before plopping down next to him.

"Ah, I know that look. What happened?"

"What look? Nothing happened."

Everett turned so he was facing me, "That little grimace on your face. It happens whenever something annoys you."

"That so doesn't happen." I shook my head. "And if you must know, I was assigned the night shift at the shop."

"That sucks." There wasn't even a trace of sympathy in his voice.

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A/N: Sup, I'm back and taking another crack at this potential dumpster fire--I'm kidding it's not bad--if it was I would've just trashed it. I'm updating all chapters for reedits and then will be updating every/every other friday!