vellichor short

Rainbow Bookshelves

He didn't return for three days. And then on the fourth day, he found her surrounded by piles of books in the T section. He stopped and watched her for a moment from the other side of the store, before she could catch him staring. Her hair was slightly unkempt, like she had been running her fingers through it, and she was mumbling to herself quietly as she moved through the stacks, alphabetizing. Her hair was thrown up in a sort of bun, but curly wisps of escaped hair rested gently on the nape of her neck and across her forehead. Suddenly, she turned and caught sight of him. She smiled that smile that he remembered so vividly, and beckoned him over. Flushing, he looked behind him to see if she was really calling him, before realizing he was in the far end of the store. There was no one behind him. Stupid. So stupid. Mentally chastising himself, he walked toward her.

"Back again? And pretty late this time" she said, studying the spine of a Tolstoy.

He was still flushed from being caught. "I was going to go home, but I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep."

She looked at him. "Bad day?"

"You could say that." He stuck out his hand, and she handed it to him. What Men Live By. "Can I help?"

She looked at him, surprised. "Are you sure? Don't you want to go home?"

He grabbed another book off a nearby pile. "I'm sure. I told you, I won't be able to sleep. When does your shift end?" His head snapped up, realizing the possibility of the implication that he was asking what time her shift ended so he could ask her out or something. "I mean, just so I know like how long you work. I mean... not in like, you know a creepy way. Like. You know, just-"

"Aaron", she interrupted with a small smile on her face, "My shift ends at nine."

The tips of his ears were a slight pink. "Good, good. Is it okay if I help out, just for a bit?"

"Yeah, sure", she said. "Less work for me... so I've taken all the T's off of the shelf because they were an utter mess, and now I'm alphabetizing." She gestured at the piles, explaining the set up.

They worked side by side for another half hour before she broke the pleasant silence.

"Aaron?"

"Yeah?"

"Why did you want to help out?"

He looked up at her, then took a breath, like he was steeling himself. "My nan used to have these enormous bookshelves at her house. When I was a kid I loved going over to her house and organizing her bookshelves by color. Always by rainbow." He smiled fondly at the memory. "She used to pretend that she loved having her books organized by the rainbow, but she would always change them back to alphabetical order after I left." Billie gave a little huff of a laugh, both of them lost in his memories.

That night, their cars were the last two in the parking lot. He insisted on walking her to hers. Just to be safe. He had insisted.

What if you get kidnapped as soon as I get in my car? She had argued, trying to stall.

If I get kidnapped, then I'll call you. He had said, stepping closer to her. Wait. I don't have your number! He had said, the tips of his ears growing warm for the hundredth time that night.

They had stopped beside her car. She had swiftly ripped off a strip of a flyer sticking haphazardly out of the stack of books in her arms, and scrawled her number onto it. Here. Now you can call me if you get kidnapped. Or... even if you don't? She had questioned, tilting her head and looking up at him.

Especially if I don't.