After skating for what felt like only thirty minutes, I was shocked when I found out two hours had passed. When we left, I only had four new bruises, which was an accomplishment. Victor slung his backpack over his shoulder and we walked down the street together.
"So, what's next." I ask cheerily while we walk down the street. It's a lot cuter than I had expected; Iredale truly was a vintage town. There were lots of cobblestone pathways, Victorian houses and buildings, and even a medium sized river that snaked its way through the town, sporting many roads and bridges. There was rolling hills of green everywhere you looked, and all the shops had a European style to them.
"Well-" Victor pauses, unfurling his ten foot map. It was an embarrassment to be seen with, but I guess that was the price of being tourists. Placing his finger on what I assumed was out location, he draws a line.
"The map is upside down." I say, taking it from his hands and turning it around. "Where are we supposed to go next?"
"It's supposed to be a surprise." He mumbles, taking the map back. "I can read this. From here, we head south."
"Who do you think I am? Lewis and Clark?" I scoff, following Victor as he 'heads south'. "Just speak like a normal person. Head left. Head right."
"Yeah yeah, whatever." He rolls his eyes. After some more walking, we stop in front of a small storefront, and by the way Victor's eyes light up I can tell we've made it. The glass is frosted, and Madeleine's is inscripted in fancy white letters. Holding the door open for me, I step in.
It's a bookstore, and all I can say is it's huge. From the outside it looked fairly small, tucked away between a pastry and a souvenir shop. It's made of redbrick, Victoria style like everything else in this town. All the walls are filled from floor to ceiling with books, color coded with dots and alphabetized by genre, the oak wood shelves gleaming from fresh veneer. There's even a ladder to reach the topmost shelves. In the central reception area, there are several tables with computers available for use. Not to far is a kid's section, with bean bag chairs and colorful educational rugs.
"I like this place because," Victor points to a far back corner I hadn't noticed before, where there was a small cafe style nook selling drinks. "They make the best hot cocoa in the world."
"This place is so cool." I whisper excitedly, wondering if he knew how much I loved to read or if that was just a coincidence. I take a step forward, inhaling the scent of well used books.
"What's your favorite genre?" He asks me as we walk into a secluded aisle belonging to the young adult genre.
"Every one of them." I say, pulling a book off the shelf by its spine. "Except historical fiction. I don't give a care about the biographies of dead people. What about you?"
Victor snorts at my response. "That's easy. Science fiction or mystery. But what if you only could pick one genre to read for the rest of your life?"
"Hmm." I have to think about the question. Turning, I lean against the sturdy shelf. Victor's standing across from me. "Romance."
"Ew, you're such a girl." He wrinkles his nose and laughs when I playfully kick him in the shin. "Okay-- let's play a game.In the romance section, we'll compete to find the worst scenes in the novels. Each time we make the other laugh you get a point. The one with the least points at the end buys dinner."
"Sounds fun." I exclaim with a smirk. Pulling out a stopwatch, Victor sets the timer for three minutes.
"Ready?" I nod, pushing myself off the bookshelf. "Go."
At the start of the timer, we split up. I scan the shelves, picking out the ones with the cheesiest and stupidest titles or covers I've ever seen. They begin to pile in my arms, and when I think I have a decent amount I pore over them on the floor to see what I've collected. A few have such ridiculous scenes that they make me laugh, so I put them on the side.
When I hear the three minute timer go off, I make my way back to Victor. We settle down on the floor of the aisle, books fanned around us. There's a mischievous glint in his eyes as he tugs at the collar of his shirt.
"You go first." He says to me, so I comply. I pick up the first book.
"Blinding Light, by Paul Theroux." I say, flipping to the page I had tabbed. I reread the line and put on my best poker face. In the most serious tone I can muster up, I read: "...it triggered his orgasm, which was not juice at all but a demon eel thrashing in his loins."
I look up at the small smile that's threatening to crack on his face. Pouting, I poke at his side. "C'mon, give me the point. You smiled."
"Smiling doesn't count." He wagged a finger at me, picking up his own book. I frown and lean back against the shelf as Victor reads. "Tracking the Tempest by Nicole Peeler." Then in the most monotonous, bland voice he can muster, he reads: "My nipples wave hello at him as he pulled down the cups of my bra."
I can't contain my laugh as it bubbles up and spills. "It does not say that." I say between fits of laughter, and as if to prove a point, he shows me where it's written in the book. Smugly, Victor gives himself a point.
I finally make him laugh when I read an excerpt from 50 Shades of Grey: "'Anal intercourse doesn't exactly float my boat.' 'But I'd really like to claim your ass.'"
This goes on, and we're both doubling over in hysterics by the time we finish. Of course I lose (looks like I'm buying dinner!) and we get up to put the books back.
"Is there any historical topics you like learning about?" He asks as his long fingers push 50 Shades of Grey back in its spot.
"Mm, probably Greek mythology." I say as Victor leads me to the small corner cafe of the bookstore. At the countertop, Victor orders two mugs of hot chocolate, extra marshmallows, and slides me my cup when it comes.
"And if you could be any greek god, which would you be, and why?" We take our mugs to the kiddie section and I collapse in a neon orange bean bag.
"Hephaestus," I say jokingly while taking a sip of the hot cocoa. He's right; it's the best thing I've ever tasted. It was more like melted belgian truffles, its dark, rich texture coating my tongue thickly before flowing down my throat. "Because he was the ugliest."
A frown takes over Victor's face. "No, you're more like..." He pauses to think. He's probably going to say something like Aphrodite, only to probably flatter me. "You're more like... Hestia. She's not only beautiful, but the goddess of the hearth. Both Poseidon and Apollo were willing to go to war over her, and her solution was to become a virgin forever. The ancient Greeks began everything with Hestia. The hearth in the house should be in the center and in every city there is a big hearth. The fire in it is well protected to prevent it from extinguishing it. You were important to everyday life, and most couldn't live without you. Like me."
I force down my blush and look into the mug of hot cocoa warming my hands, watching the white milk foam spotted with cocoa powder swirl around. "And you'd be... uh, Poseidon. Cause he's cool."
Victor laughs quietly and pulls out one of the books he bought, which was Shakespeare's A Winter's Tale. He begins to read a soliloquy out loud, his deeply warm voice washing over me like the warmth of the hot cocoa. His blue eyes scanning the page makes me believe in miracles, and his soothing voice makes me want to believe in Aphrodite.
When he finishes, I recite a monologue from Romeo & Juliet that I actually have memorized thanks to Mrs. Navarro's English class and her stupid final play. Victor's laughs sound through the air until the librarian tells us to shush.
"Ever heard of blind date with a book?" I ask Victor as we lean back, staring up at the mosaic tiled ceiling of the library. Victor shakes his head no. "They wrap the book in paper so that you can't see the cover or synopsis, and write only one or two bullet points on what the book is about, so you can't judge a book by it's cover."
"Let's pick one out for each other." Victor suggests, and we walk over to the counter. I walk away, looking at the covers. Based on what I could recall, Victor liked sci-fi, had a really weird vast knowledge on greek mythology, and liked mystery. When I finally find the perfect one, I head to the cashier and buy it.
Victor appears behind me a moment later, his own bag in hand. There's a small frown on his handsome face as he looks at the receipt clutched in my hand. "I was supposed to pay."
"What, I can't treat you?" I ask playfully. I tuck the book in my bag, planning to give it to him at the end of the day.
"Let's go," Victor says, pulling me to the exit. "I've already got it all planned out."
It's not before we make a quick stop to his car to drop everything off and for Victor to get his suspicious bag do we leave. I groan as he pulls out the embarrassing map, gathering passerbyers attention. I tug absentmindedly on my tourist hat, feeling like an Australian more than anything, as we walk down the maze of streets to find our dinner spot.
A couple minutes later we're walking down a sandy incline, and the smell of sea salt becomes all to familiar. The briny aroma fills my nose, and I immediately can taste the salty air and feel the cool stickiness on my face.
We stop briefly to take off our shoes before continuing down the sandy path. My toes curl under the golden sand that fades into the blue sea. Waves crash onto the frigid sand, leaving behind foaming trails.
"Close your eyes." Victor says as a we stop a little ways from the ocean. I narrow my eyes in suspicion.
"Why?" I ask, crossing my arms.
"Just do it." He says, and with a grumble I comply. There's a pause, before the sound of rustling bags and clinking can be heard. "Keep them closed." He says, and I shift from foot to foot. Curiosity tempts me to open my eyes, but I keep them closed for his sake.
"Okay. Open." Victor says. I peel my eyes open, and involuntarily a smile crosses my face.
On the floor is a white blanket with a couple throw pillows. In the center sits a picnic basket; two plates set on either side. There are even wine glasses set out and unlit candles.
"How charming," I shake my head with a laugh. "I wasn't aware you had a nice side."
"I don't." Victor motions for me to take a seat and I do. "Don't be to impressed, though. The menu is a little... sparse."
Opening the picnic basket, Victor reveals a bottle of Mountain Dew, a bag of skittles, and a couple of dishes covered with tin foil.
Setting them on the floor, he uncovers them. The rich aroma of the dish wafts up to my nose; it's a plate of Alfredo shrimp scampi, a bowl of salad dripping with dressing, and a roll of fresh bakes bread. I have no idea when or how Victor had heated it up when we had been together this whole time, but heat wafted out of the morsels. "Tonight's meal, you'll find we have a delicious Italian cuisine. You'll find fettuccine noodles drenched in an alfredo sauce accompanied by mixed shrimp. You'll notice for our side dish we have thinly sliced potatoes lightly tossed in salt and baked to perfection with a mixture of lettuce, parsley, vinaigrette, carrots, Italian dressing, flax, tomatoes, and cashews; to quench your thirst, I have prepared the finest Mountain Dew in this side of town. Finally, for dessert, we have a bag of Skittles and a homemade cupcake baked and iced to moist perfection."
I try to hold in my giggle and keep a straight face, but a smile crosses my face instead. "So, we're having shrimp pasta, potato chips, salad, skittles, and chocolate twinkies?" I ask, settling down besides him and making myself comfortable. I don't fail to notice our touching legs for the second time that day.
"Yeah, I'm basically a chef. We've already known." He shrugs. A wave crashes on the shore, the sound serene and tranquil. An eerie calm washes over me. I want these moments to never pass, me sitting here with him by my side. "Five star chefs always make twinkies for dessert, didn't you know?"
"Thank you." I say, rubbing at my shoulder. "It's lovely."
"Well, I'm glad you like it." He reaches over and grabs the bag of Skittles. He opens the bag and offers me one, and I surprise myself by declining his offer.
"Haven't you learned, dessert comes after dinner?" I joke, crossing my legs. Victor rolls his eyes and pop two in his mouth.
"Okay, Mom." He chides and pulls out serving spoons. "20 Questions?"
It was our fake version of 20 Questions we had come to make; just random questions we asked each other. I nod, watching as Victor serve the both of us.
"What would you do if the world was going to end in one week?" He asks, leaning back. I shift around so that my legs are beneath me and gratefully take the plate from Victor's offering hands.
"Well," I begin, twirling some of the pasta on the fork. "I'd write a book on the world as it was before. Maybe, in a thousand years or something when humanity is restored, someone will find it and be able to learn about our past lives."
"Dare I say it, you're boring." Victor says and I roll my eyes. "Write a book? Really? You have 7 days left to live and you'd sit there writing about the earth's history?"
"Well, Einstein, what would you do? I'm just thinking for the good of the future." I take a bite of the pasta, and it's so damn good I almost let out a sigh of content. I couldn't be to sure, but it was the best dinner I'd had in a really long time; probably because Victor made it.
"Raid, pillage, and plunder to my hearts content. After all, only fools are certain." Victor looks up at the darkening sky. "Seriously? Write a book?"
"Shut up." I mumble, shoving his arm. He leans to the side and laughs. "What would you raid, pillage, and plunder anyway?"
"Maybe I'd steal a car. Get drunk. Feast. Steal a whole bunch of dogs. I don't know." Victor shrugs. "I'd like to live life like everyday is my last on earth. That would make life so much more meaningful."
"So, you'd steal a car on the daily?" I ask, reaching over his body to grab the bag of Skittles. I don't fail to notice my arm touching his lean torso.
"Well. No." He pauses and frowns at the ocean. "But I guess I'd tell everyone close to me exactly how I feel about them."
My heart skips and I begin picking out the red Skittles. All I had to do was keep telling myself Victor didn't like me back and I'd be okay in the end.
Maybe it was the gentle ease of flowing conversation with the sound of the ocean waves crashing, or maybe it was the sound of our wine glasses full of Mountain Dew clinking. Maybe it was the gorgeous sunset that began to paint the sky, but his presence next to me made everything in the world seem okay.
"The sunset is really pretty." He whispers, almost cautious, acting like if he were to loud, the sunset would go away. I nod, unable to do anything but watch.
The yellow ball of fire changed to hues of orange, and then almost tangerine. It merged with the sky; the clouds were cotton-candy, as though they blushed at the warm touch of the sun. Silhouettes of birds flew home across a sky that was now magenta; and the sun was half into the water, but its reflection in the sea made it look complete. The mauve of the dusky sky intensified, and in just a while, the biggest star would set, giving way to a thousand others.
Victor watches the sea, lost in the rhythmic percussion of waves on sand. His eyes are steady to the horizon, face aglow with the last orange rays before twilight beckons the stars. His lips bear the semblance of a smile, just enough to show that he is enjoying his thoughts, whatever they may be. With a sudden act of boldness, I move closer so that he feels my presence, yet stay quiet, allowing him to stay lost in the moment a while longer.
The world seems infinite when I feel Victor's body shift besides me, and when I look over his face is inches from mine. My heart stops, and all I can do is sit there frozen in both fear and excitement. I can see every detail in his stubbornly beautiful face, noticing flecks of icy gray in his ocean eyes I'd never noticed from a distance. His breath smelt sweet like candy. Either of his arms were on either side of me now, and it was so close, so close-
He leans in closer.
Our lips were this close to touching now, and neither of us could look away. My brain was yelling in excitement and my heart pounding from adrenaline, because, wasn't this the moment I've been waiting for? Isn't this the moment I've dreamed about for months now?
But at the last possible moment, his head turns to the side and he picks out a piece of lettuce from my hair.
Was I just cock blocked by a piece of lettuce?
"Thanks." Is all I manage to croak out when Victor sits back in his seat, flicking the lettuce aside. I can feel a slow redness crawling across my cheeks; was it obvious I had wanted him to kiss me? Was it obvious that I liked him now? None of his actions said he knew anything, at least.
"Yeah." He clears his throat. "I, uh... get lettuce in my hair all the time."
"Hate when that happens." I laugh awkwardly. It comes out forced. Clearing my throat, I take off the hat that I didn't even realize was still on my head, and stray strands of hair fall out.
I really do have the best luck in the world. Not.
❋❋❋
{a/n}
sorry for being dead for.. two months now...
but here's another update and i promise I'll try not to take a long leave of unrequited absence anymore ^.^
don't forget to vote+comment if you enjoyed this chapter ;)