Far away from the bustling busy bodies of people, a figure stood in front of a certain shop that was hidden away from the majority of the public. A place that could only be found either by accident or when you really searched for it.
A small, old bookstore. It was squeezed between a little café and a humble pet store, just a few miles outside the crowded streets of London.
It was the perfect place to just disappear from the world and find beauty between the pages of a fine book. That was what Name told herself.
She always found pleasure in reading. Words were like magic potions in her eyes; when given to special wizards called "writers" words could be combined to make something amazing. A spell that could leave you speechless or in tears, frowning or laughing, but mostly thinking and questioning everything you know. Books and words were magnificent things. They would leave a piece of themselves inside you and you didn't mind.
Unlike with people.
Name shook her head, pushing away last night's events away. She woke up with a headache that morning. Her throat felt sore, her eyes heavy and swollen, her limbs limp.
Even though it was only morning she was exhausted because she cried herself to sleep that night. She had never let out so many tears in years, she had realized when her eyes flew open upon the sunlight's soft caress.
All those emotions that she kept bottled up just exploded simultaneously the split-second she decided to twist open the cap of that bottle a little bit; like water rushing out a tank that could no longer hold it any longer.
She spent half an hour in bed, debating what she should do until she finally came to a decision and a realization.
So what if she felt betrayed and hurt?
She's survived for so long without Francis, she'll learn to let go one way or another. She's gone so far without him so what difference did his sudden comeback in her life could do to her?
Scars are there to remind us that we've been hurt but they're also there to tell us that despite all the crap we've been through we're still alive.
We're still here with our lungs breathing and our hearts beating. No matter how fucked up life could be at one moment, or how much we want to relive a moment we have no other choice but keep on going. Life doesn't have a reset button, just a temporary pause; no rewinds, no fast-forwards.
Words like those gave the girl a ray of hope in the midst of a dark, chaotic storm.
Name inhaled, appreciating that inky paper smell that radiated from A.A. Milne's "The Complete Tales of Winnie the Pooh". The kind-looking elderly clerk behind the counter gave it to Name when she entered the store, saying "You look like you need a little cheering up, love"
It was an old, worn-down first edition copy. "Old, worn-down" being a compliment, of course, as its pages were creased and slightly tattered with folds, and there was even a simple yet sweet message written on the first page of the book:
To our dearest Madeleine, happy sixth birthday. May these words inspire you to become the great lady we know you will be.
Love, Mama & Papa
Name felt a smile tug the corner of her lips at the message. One of the things she loved was a book that gave off the impression "I was loved and cared for, read over and over again, passed from one generation to another" with its creased, tattered pages.
The store also had its own version of "old, worn-down"; it was still dusty at certain places (but Name doubted that the clerk didn't clean), and the books were littered almost everywhere.
But that's their charm.
They held character, like the wrinkles on an elderly formed over the years with its own share of wisdom and experience.
"Enjoying your book, poppet?" Name almost dropped the copy.
She didn't know if she was to be glad or sad. Glad that she got the chance to meet up with someone who she somewhat grew fond of over one trip. Or sad that the time she meant for herself and a good book was interrupted.
"Hey" She chose to look at the bright side of things and smiled at the green-eyed blonde looming over her in a white dress shirt and sweater vest paired with tanned slackers, "Arthur"
He smiled and tilted his head to peek at the book.
She was confused for a second but immediately understood. She held it up for him to see.
"Winnie the Pooh?" He asked, one bushy brow was higher than the other.
The girl giggled, "Don't judge, Mr. Potter" she retorted in a mock British accent.
Arthur feigned hurt, "You said it was 'cool'"
"Yes but I couldn't possibly bat an eyelash at the rare opportunity of teasing someone"
"I suppose you're right" He motioned at the vacant spot on the floor—also the only one that wasn't a resting place for towers of books, "May I?"
She scooted a bit to make what few more room she could make for him.
He took his seat next to her, and asked, "So how's the Harry Potter series?"
"I still haven't bought the second book, but once I get my allowance I'll see what I can do. I'd try using my kindle but it's just not the same. Real books are so much... I dunno sexier with their curves and their scent" She couldn't find a better word that fit her feelings for books.
Arthur laughed and Name joined him.
"I'm being serious" She said despite herself.
"I get your point"
They fell quiet, but it was a good kind of quiet. It was comfortable. Name even engrossed herself in the world of Winnie the Pooh.
"So how did you find this place?" Arthur asked after a several minutes passed.
"...Hm?" The girl hummed with half-hearted interest, too busy enjoying her book.
"How did you find this place?" Arthur repeated a little more loudly but as politely as possible "It's not like anyone to find or even consider entering such a small little bookshop" He whispered the last part, hoping the clerk who was busy reading as well, wouldn't hear.
"Well..." Name put her index finger in between the two pages of the chapter she was reading and closed the book shut. She faced Arthur, "I took a stroll in and around town, ended up out here. Places like these fascinate me"
"Places like what?" He asked, genuinely interested.
"Places..." She tapped her chin thoughtfully.
Suddenly, as though a light bulb went off in her head, she beamed excitedly, "Places with history. Places with a story to tell" She gesticulated, "Like how you glance at a complete stranger's face and think to yourself 'Ah-ha. That. That is a face with a thousand stories to tell'..."
"Really..." He stared at her.
He couldn't help it. He found it amusing and endearing the way her emotions showed up clearly on her face. From the way she spoke and the way her eyes sparkled as she did so.
But he also knew that everyone had something dark, something buried deep inside them. Her bright smile was real but also held so many secrets, like a beautiful beach hidden in plain sight. Secrets that he, shockingly, wanted to desperately know so he could understand her more.
"...and I guess" She stared at the literary piece in her hands, "I just really, really love reading"
Arthur grinned, "I see"
"What about you?"
"Beg your pardon?"
"I told you how I got here. How about you? Are you a regular here?"
"Yes, you could say that. I've known Maddie for quite some time now" He motioned towards the clerk. Name followed his gaze.
'"Maddie"?' she wondered...
Her train of thoughts were disrupted however, when Arthur cleared his throat, "Anyway, you seem to be quite fond of that masterpiece" He looked at the copy she held, "I'm sure Miss Maddie wouldn't mind handing it to someone like you"
"Huh?"
"He's right, dearie" The old woman had stood up from her seat behind the counter and walked all the way over to the two, "You can have it"
"Oh, but I couldn't possibly..." She started but Miss Maddie raised her hand to stop the younger woman.
"I've had that since I was a little girl. That's the last gift I've ever received from my mama and papa"
Name wondered for a moment but instantly caught on. She felt her heart break a little from the thought of taking something so precious, "But even more the reason to—
Miss Maddie shook her head lightly, "It's fine. I'm an old lady with no child or grandchild. All I have is this bookstore my papa owned. I'm glad to find a young woman such as yourself that appreciates literature with such passion. Please take care of it for me"
The girl reluctantly nodded, "I-I will. I promise, thank you"
Miss Maddie smiled but then told them that if they had anywhere to go they should leave immediately since a storm was on its way. Name and Arthur took her advice and left but not without another 'thank you' and a 'goodbye'.
Author's Note: So far my favorite chapter. How about you?