•Y/N: Your Name
•L/N: Last Name
•E/C: Eye Color
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Your POV:
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The familiar sound of a bell dinging marks my entrance upon coming into a small building crammed between two larger ones in the city. The soft taps of my dark brown boots against the hardwood floor go in rhythm with my steps as I pass by the few shelves of plush toys lining the navy blue walls of the establishment. Mentally, I take note of any missing spaces that would need to be filled in before opening for the day. Not everything had been restocked the night before, so it'd have to be done today. This place belongs to me, Y/N L/N.
A few years ago, I opened this sewing shop, which I've dubbed Pins and Needles, where I design and create clothes, stuffed animals and accessories. It may not be anything exciting, but I do enjoy it. The store is close to home, which makes things very simple for me, considering I don't own a car. I tend to get a decent flow of customers in and out, but on most days, it's barely enough for me to scrape by, what with the cost of owning the place, rent for my apartment, and having at least the basic necessities to live. I try to look on the bright side, though.
I knew it'd be hard at times, but things could be worse. This shop has been my dream for many years, so I'll do everything I can to keep it running. After all, sewing is a passion of mine. I just find it so relaxing, plus it helps me deal with the magnificent amount of stress I'm put under on a daily basis. It's best if I keep the strain as minimal as possible, since I have a rather... serious condition.
How cliché it is to have awful anxiety issues, but it truly is a critical problem I face often. It's so bad that I have the possibility of literally dying because of it. I mostly have it under control now with the medicine I take every morning, but I know it won't ever go away. It starts as a regular panic attack, where I have trouble breathing, then it sometimes extends into a seizure. Other times, I'll be coughing violently enough to spit up blood, which worries me the most, honestly, for it usually comes out in large pools.
I recall one of my worst instances, the day after graduation from high school, when I was kicked out of the house by my mother. She was always a bit on the off side, but I never thought she'd lock me out like that. After I begged constantly for her to let me in, I found myself crying my eyes out and ran to my boyfriend's house to ask if he'd let me spend the night, thinking mom would've come to her senses by morning. Sadly, that was not the case, for when I went back, the house was almost completely empty. She had managed to slip away during the night, taking anything she could with her and put the house up for sale, leaving me alone... with nothing...
That day, I had passed out in the street with blood pouring from my mouth after I had hacked up a storm on the sidewalk. It was dreadful. I can still recall the pain in my throat, which had seemingly constricted to block off air to my lungs. I was lucky that the lady across the street went out to water her garden and saw me. The next thing I knew, I woke up in the hospital.
The doctors filled me in on everything, but I was still devastated by what had happened. Thankfully, my boyfriend's family was more than happy to take me in until I was able to save up for an apartment, which is where I live now. I've at least got a handle on the problem for now. Working as a seamstress helps keep my mind off things. There's just something therapeutic about the feel of the fabric and poking the thin needle through it to attach the pieces together with soft thread.
A sigh of serenity escapes my glossed lips as I fill up the empty spaces on the wooden shelves with a few stuffed animals I grabbed from the back room. Once that's finished, I head towards the door to flip the sign reading Closed in black cursive to say Open before walking over to my chair, which sits behind the wooden counter that doubles as a desk in the back of the room. Sitting upon its smooth surface is a familiar man with black hair, who's dressed in a black, leather trench coat with silver buttons, black slacks, and pointed dress shoes. I quite like the design of his coat, for the sleeves aren't leather, nor are they plain black; instead they're made of a soft, sweater material that clings to the shape of his arms and have horizontal, black and dark grey stripes.
The man's hair is a curly mess, but it suits his flawless features well. Sometimes I even wonder if he actually brushes it or not. He's seated with one leg dangling off the counter, and the other one laying across his knee. His left hand holds up his chin with the elbow firmly planted in his thigh, while the other lies limply on his other leg. Both his eyes are shut, allowing me to see his dark lashes, but not his stunning, royal blue eyes. I offer the man a smile as I plop down on my chair even though he can't see it.
"Good morning, stranger," I greet in a happy voice as I do almost every morning. The male responds by opening his eyes and sparing me a glance before shutting them again. He softly nods his head in acknowledgment before going back to... whatever the hell he thinks about. Honestly, I have no clue who he is, not even his name. I just remember bumping into him on the street, and the next thing I know, he followed me all the way to the shop.
This was about three years ago when I first got the place too. He'd return every day and would stay until I went to lock up. He never looked at any of the merchandise or spoke a word, so obviously, I found this strange enough to confront him about it. I didn't get far, though. He never uttered a syllable.
After that, things only got weirder. He'd refuse to leave and would instead spend the night in my store. When this first started, I lost a lot of sleep staying up with him to make sure he didn't try to rob me or something, but he just sat there like what he was doing was okay. Eventually, I gave up and let him do whatever the hell he wanted. Now, I never called the police on him because of two reasons: he's been pretty harmless, and... It turns out the son of a bitch is fucking invisible.
I found out the day a customer came to me, claiming I was talking to the air. She never did come back after that. Probably thought I'm crazy. After asking a few random customers about the man, I realized I really am the only one able to see him. This unsettled me, so I kept my distance from him for a while.
As mentioned before, he's pretty much harmless, so I didn't freak out over it too badly. After observing him over the years, I found that he has many favorite spots to sit, mainly on my desk, where he can watch customers ring up their items. Sometimes, I'll catch him taking naps on the blue and white, vertically-striped sofa I have in the store or sitting in my chair whenever I'm not on it, which honestly bugs me. Whenever I'd ask him to get up, he'd only smirk at me. Most often, though, I'll catch him with his eyes closed, only opening them if something snags his interest or when I'm trying to start a conversation with him.
Sometimes, I'll ask him random questions when I'm bored or feeling lonesome. He never responds, though, aside from nodding his head every now and again. Most times, I don't even get that much. I'm starting to think he's mute. Either that, or he's incredibly stubborn. I'll get my answer one day, I swear it!
Today starts pretty slow with a steady flow of customers coming in and out. When a gap forms and no one is in the store, I open the bottom, right drawer in the desk and pull out one of the many notebooks that are inside. This particular one is black and decorated in stickers I stuck onto it. I find a blank page and pick out a pencil from the metal cup I keep beside the register before sketching out the structure of an enormous castle. This here is the "Miracle Journal", which contains my designs as well as detailed drawings and summaries of my dreams.
It's not uncommon for me to mix the two subjects together, since I get my inspiration from the vivid visions I get during the night. Sometimes, they'll only be colorful blurs or glimpses of things, while most often, it'd feel like the dreamscape is actually reality. The dream would be too real to distinguish what is fiction and what is not. I can't get it out of my head either, so I put it to good use and incorporate aspects from my dreams into my unique creations. As I draw, I begin to speak to the silent male on the counter, who now sits with his gloved palms against the desk.
"I had another weird dream last night," I mention, which grabs his attention quickly. Opening his blue eyes, the man turns his head to face me. By this point, I've caught onto his body language. I can tell whether or not I bother him, but he seems to always like it when I pay him attention and talk to him. Likewise, I tend to enjoy his company as well, even though he won't open his damn mouth. "I don't remember much, just this huge castle, and the sky was red. It looked so cool, like fire. Even the clouds looked like smoke."
Lifting my eyes from the paper, I send the man a smile, which he faintly returns, though it was barely noticeable. I then flip the page I drew on to write a summary of what I recall on the back, being sure to date it as well. Afterwards, I hand it to him so that he can look it over. His blue orbs scan over the words before he flips the page to view the picture. The corners of his lips twitch into a bigger smile as he closes the notebook before sliding it back to me. The man then turns away, hiding his smile and returning to his stoic expression.
'He looks nice with a smile.' The corners of my lips tug upwards a bit as joy fills my chest. I like his smiles, since they're so rare to see. My attention is shifted to the front door upon hearing the ring of the bell. My E/C orbs land on a middle-aged, blonde man, who I instantly recognize as a regular here at Pins and Needles. I greet him with a cheery smile as I sit up straight in my seat.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Donavan. How are you today?"
"I'm doing wonderful, thank you, Y/N. You wouldn't happen to have any new plush toys, would you? You see, it's the twins' birthday tomorrow, and I still haven't found anything for them yet." The tall male sighs tiredly, clearly stressed out over this.
"Yes, actually. I made some new ones a few days ago if you'd like to see?" I offer with a smile to put him at ease. Instantly, his green-hazel eyes light up like fireworks as he approaches the counter.
"Oh, yes! That would be excellent!" He exclaims in relief, causing a light laugh to escape me. I straighten out my black, ruffled blouse when I stand.
"They're in the back room. I'll go get them for you." With that, I head to the back room, which is separated from the store by a white, wooden door. I flick the light switch on the cream-colored wall, causing the lights above to turn on and illuminate the shelves of fabric and undisplayed items. I grab the container of stuffed toys before bringing them out to Mr. Donavan. The invisible, ghost man watches me carry the box to the wooden, oval-shaped table in front of the sofa, where coloring pages and crayons are in case someone brings in their kids to keep them occupied while they shop.
"You can take a look at what's in here." I lightly pat the box, and the father nods before sifting through the toys. Meanwhile, I grab a few crayons before going behind the counter to color the picture I made. This should kill some time while Mr. Donavan goes over his options. During his search, the blonde engages in a bit of conversation to kill the silence.
"I don't know how you do it, Y/N. These are some of the best looking toys I've ever seen, and you know I have knowledge on these sorts of things," he says with a light laugh, referring to how often he's bought toys for his kids. I smile upon hearing his compliment.
"Glad you like them. I put a lot of work into each one."
"I can tell. Everything you make is just splendid. Ah ha! I think I've found the perfect ones!" He announces before coming over to me with the plush toys in hand. The first is a sunset orange rabbit with black button eyes and ears held up by bendable wire, which allows you to make them floppy or stand tall. The adorable bunny is dressed in a black waistcoat and a big red bowtie, making it look distinguished.
The second is a royal purple bear with short fur that has black, swirly patterns and two, different-colored eyes: one emerald green, the other bright orange. What truly makes it unique, however, is its smile. The large, cartoony grin of felt, pointed teeth curls just beneath the creature's slit-pupil eyes. I originally thought that toy was going to turn out scary, but in the end, it actually came out kind of cute. Obviously, the dark-haired male disagrees with me on that, for his blue eyes narrow at the teddy bear in what I believe is hate.
'Maybe he's scared of it?' I nearly laugh at the thought of the tall individual cowering in fear of a little, plush bear, but I push it aside. Lastly, Mr, Donavan presented me with a stuffed piglet with soft, lavender purple fur and fuchsia eyes. I find it odd that he grabbed three items instead of two, so naturally, I questioned him about it.
"Who is the third one for? Last time I checked, the boys don't do sharing." A wide grin comes into place on the blonde's face, causing me to raise a brow.
"I'll tell you, that is, if you can keep a secret?" He holds up a finder to his lips with excitement clear in his voice. I can't help but let out a small giggle at the grown male's antics.
"Okay, okay. Just tell me before you burst."
"We're having another baby!" He exclaims as though he'd explode with joy. He always did love kids. I smile, genuinely happy for him.
"That's great news! Congratulations. When did you find out?"
"Just this week! I'm so excited! I can barely keep it to myself!" Mr. Donavan has always desired a big family. From what he's told me, his house is already pretty full with a wife, two kids, three dogs, and a cat. I envy that about him. It must truly be bliss to live a life like his, full of people and working a really good paying job. I hope to get to that point some day. "I can't wait! Oh, and I do hope it's a girl this time. Don't get me wrong, the boys are nice and all, but I really want a little girl!" I laugh at his energy as I ring up his items.
"Just be sure to tell me when they're born."
"Why, of course! You're practically family to me!" His smile never falters, making my insides warm. It feels nice to be appreciated. The blonde pays me, while I prepare his items into three, separate, gift boxes.
"Thank you. That really means a lot to hear you say that." After the toys are closed in their containers, I wrap the boxes in the shiny, blue gift wrap I keep under my desk before stacking them on top of each other for him to carry easily. "There you go. Be sure to tell Lilly and the boys I said hi."
"I will!" He shouts as he makes his way to the door with the gifts in hand, doing his best not to let them topple over. I sigh softly when he leaves, holding up my head with a hand.
'What a lucky man. He doesn't have a care in the world.' The reason I want his life so badly is because, at the moment, I barely have anyone, just a few friends and my boyfriend... Well, I suppose I can count the ghost man too. My only real family left in the world is my mother, and she's nowhere to be found. My eyes wander over to the dark-haired male on the counter, who stares blankly at the door.
"Hey," I called out to him, causing his head to turn in my direction with a dark brow raised. "Do you have any family?" I ask, genuinely curious. I've only seen him interact with me, and he literally never goes anywhere. Maybe he's lonely, and that's why he stays? Sadly, he doesn't even bother to nod and just stares at me with a blank look. He always creeps me out when he does this. It feels violating, like he's staring deep into my soul. A small shiver rolls down my spine as I look away from him. I really wish he'd answer something at least. I'd very much like to know his name after all these years.
"Never mind." The rest of the day was pretty quiet, and eventually, it became time to close. After packing up what I need, I sling the heavy, black backpack I carry over my shoulder before heading for the door with my keys in hand. I turn to the man before opening the exit and give him a small wave. "See you tomorrow, stranger."
The male gives a light huff as a farewell, making me smile as I step outside and lock the door. He doesn't leave anyway, and I'm not just going to let someone walk in and rob the place. He's probably the laziest thing on the planet, doing nothing all day and all night without a single care. Must be nice.
Standing in front of the long, paned window out front, I wave goodbye to the mysterious figure a final time even though his eyes are closed. He slides off the counter before heading to the sofa to sleep, paying me no mind. I turn my heel and walk away at a brisk pace to get home. Before I know it, I reach the tall apartment building and head inside to my flat. The second I enter, however, I'm assaulted by a flying plate, which I, thankfully, dodge in time, so it instead hits the door that I've closed behind me. I sigh and stare at my culprit in annoyance.
"Really?" I sigh in frustration while running a hand through my hair, my fingers lightly grazing the brown headband on my head in the process.
'That was one of the good plates too.'
"Who's after you now, Barb?" Barbra, my roommate, chuckles nervously with an apologetic smile on her face. She actually comes from a very wealthy family that spoils her to death, which makes me wonder why the hell she ever wanted to move into this dump with me. Apparently, she wanted to give "independent living" a try. Little does she know, her parents have been filling her bank account to make sure she can still live luxuriously while staying here. She doesn't even realize it. Though we are really different from each other, we did end up becoming very close friends, so that's nice.
"Oh, it's just you. Thank God!" Groaning, she plops down on the couch and throws her head back dramatically. Her hair, which is tied in a bun, is in utter disarray, sticking out in many places, while her eyes express exhaustion. "Sorry about that. Me and Kyle just got into another fight, that's all." Ah, Kyle, Barbra's airhead boyfriend. That explains the flying plates. Smiling softly, I shake my head and sit beside her after removing my bag from my shoulders.
"I don't understand why you don't just dump his ass already. He's more trouble than he's worth."
"You right, you right." She smiles sheepishly while rubbing the back of her neck. "Oh, by the way, I made some meatloaf if you want any." She points her thumb towards the kitchen before grabbing the remote to change the channel on the television.
"No, that's all right. I think I've had enough of today. I'm ready for bed."
"Amen to that." She lets out a loud yawn and stretches her limbs. I laugh lightly as I stand up and head over to my bedroom. It's pretty simple with light, hardwood flooring and boring, white walls. My bed is pressed up against the back corner, while to the right of it is a wide, body-length mirror that leans against the other corner of the room. Three, black shelves hold a few trinkets on the back wall, which I've decorated with string lights that have large bulbs.
A single window covered by black curtains resides near the foot of my bed, overlooking the street below. My bed has white sheets and a plush comforter, while a mix of black and white pillows lie against the wall, where a headboard would normally be. Beside the bed is a white nightstand that matches the dresser I have next to the mirror with metal handles. I have a few posters on the walls too just to liven it up a little, but otherwise the space is quite dull. Still, it's nice.
I shut my bedroom door and change into a navy blue, baggy t-shirt and black short shorts before shutting off the light and slipping under the covers. For reasons unknown to me, my thoughts wander to the dark-haired man as I lie there in bed. I still wonder who or what he is and why the fuck he never leaves the store. I let him stay the night for Christ's sake, the least he can do is help out once and awhile!
'Lazy bones.' I chuckle softly as I sigh and close my eyes.
Exhausted, I fall asleep quickly, completely unaware of a lurking presence in the room.