A collection of Billdip

AU- Writting muse

I saw the mysterious figure the first time I walked inside the café. He was always there. Sitting in the same comfy chair, with the same charismatic smile, ordering the same caffeine drink. He always wears a suit. And he comes everyday. That person is the human form of the old Brazilian saying "decipher me or I'll devour you". He always sits there alone. Sometime he reads and sometimes he types. But he is always there. So I sit here in my dilemma looking at that attractive riddle that I now call The Stranger.

I must admit that until today I thought that when people said that sometimes you met figures that looked like something out of a book I didn't believe it. But now this blond comes into my life and I sit here wondering what is it about him? He just sits there as if the universe is his. And I believe it. There is this thing in his eyes. He has enchanted everyone else. I already overheard the waitresses and waiters talking about how all of them want to be with him. I don't blame them. I admit that I have been lost in his smile once or twice. There is something so... desirable about him. After all the coffee here isn't even that great and I've been coming here everyday just to look at my new muse. And the way he talks. Looks like everyone is just an object of his lust.

I feel like this writing is just getting boring and my complex stays. He will devour me. The secrets he seems like he is hiding. Looks like he is British. Or from some place far away. Maybe not even from Earth. Every writer would like to be in my shoes right now looking at this personification of all of our words combined.

Has he noticed me? Sometimes I think he is looking right into my eyes. But when I look back he has already chosen another victim. I try sitting closer to him everyday and I once heard his voice. He speaks as if every word was an incantation. And I just a mere mortal next to him hear it like music. Getting more and more hooked every time he voices his thoughts.

I always wondered if it was possible to fall in love with a stranger. I start to wonder if that is what is happening to me. Though I'm not sure if I should call this love or mere obsession.

"I liked that last line. Really poetic."

Dipper jumped at the sound of the stranger's voice and immediately closed his laptop. He had been so lost in his writing he didn't even see him coming closer.

The Stranger sat across from him with his usual cup in hands.

"You noticed me watching then?" Dipper asked feeling his face burning up.

"Well, from the amount of words in that document I didn't notice it at first. But after a while it's hard not to see this guy coming inside your café everyday and getting closer to you every time. So I thought, this fella probably wants to talk to me and came over." The Stranger got up. "Hi. The name is Bill Cipher." He said shaking Dipper's hand.

"Dipper Pines."

"Aren't you that young guy that writes a bunch of award winning short stories?"

"Yeah that's me."

"You won that Pulitzer a while back when you were..."

"Last year. Nineteen."

"So I see, I'm the next story."

"You were going to be, but I guess now you want me to abandon it right?"

"No! Not in a million years! You could maybe just let me read it."

"It's not finished yet."

"That's alright."

Dipper held his computer tightly. He couldn't show him that. The words were too personal and maybe a little too sentimental.

"I'm not sure you'll like it." Dipper said opening the laptop against his will.

"Well, I am certain I will. I read that story of yours that won the prize. My whole class loved it." Bill said with his enchanting smile.

"So you are in college?"

"No, I graduated last year. Law School."

"Oh that's nice. I'm happy to know the future justice squad of the nation liked my story."

Dipper kept looking at him now that he acquired new information. He had to be Harvard. The look on his face just screamed it. Full of himself and fancy, and yet you just felt this need to grab the collar of that thousand dollar suit and kiss him. Dipper thought about it and wrote that down.

"Sorry when the ideas come I just have to write them" He apologized looking at the screen.

"That's alright. As long as it's only good things." Bill answered and winked.

Dipper finished writing and breathed deeply. He slid the computer to the other side of the table and Bill turned it to him.

Dipper felt tense every second that passed. He never meant for him to read that. Actually he never meant for him to know that it was him. He watched Bill reading with a smile. Dipper could just stand there like that.

"Excuse me." He said and went over to the balcony.

The cashier, whom he came to know after going there so many times, greeted him and took his order quickly. Dipper stood there waiting and not looking over at Bill. He couldn't. His muffin arrived and once he turned to go back to his place Bill wasn't there anymore.

Dipper rushed back to his chair and sat taking the computer nervously. Once he looked at the screen new words were written.

The Stanger's number is (917) 555-4815. See you soon, Dipper Pines.