Work Text:
One of your favourite things about the bookstore was watching the changing of the seasons throughout the year. Your wooden armchair sat next to the window at the front of the store, a plump cushion on the seat and a thick, knitted blanket hung over the back. You would sit there in between customers and watch the trees shed their leaves and change colour and bloom as the year went on.
You’d begin the year with flavoured coffees to keep you awake and alert, then it would be iced teas to cool you down in the heat and the stuffiness of the shop and eventually hot cocoa would keep you company during the festive holiday.
Unsurprisingly you were busiest in December and had to be on top of your game with recommendations for customers who were buying gifts. So when the bell above the door chimed and a man strode confidently into your store one Tuesday morning, you placed your warm drink next to the till and stood to welcome him in.
“Good morning, do you need help looking for a book today?” You asked, a tired smile on your lips as you leaned on the counter. The man was smartly dressed, a long beige coat covered his physique and he was wearing leather gloves against the bitter air outside. The blonde streak in his hair intrigued you, and his roguish smile and scruffy beard drew you into him. Most customers went in and out unnoticed, unforgettable, but you had a feeling he wasn’t going to be one of them.
“Ah, you may help me indeed,” he replied with an air of charm and a southern accent that may have sounded silly coming from anybody else’s mouth, “I have a teenager in my care, she is brilliantly smart, could outwit the best of them and she loves reading, is always making up stories about characters she loves. There must be something in this labyrinth of yours that she will fall in love with.”
You felt your face lighting up the more he spoke, enraptured by the passionate way he spoke about this girl that was obviously so important to him.
“Is there a particular genre she enjoys most?” You asked, hoping to narrow down the girl’s interests. You walked around the counter to stand in front of this stranger.
“She has a fondness for science fiction. Oh, and fantasy! She is so often in her own world instead of the real one,” he replied with a chuckle, not once sounding disgruntled by this girl’s ways.
“She sounds like a dreamer. I’m like that,” you smiled, leading him towards the fantasy section of the store, already compiling a list of books in your head of what might be appropriate.
You pointed out various books that fitted the description of what his giftee liked, sometimes having to abandon your ideas when he mentioned she already owned that book. You gushed over your favourite authors and he listened intently to your recommendations and the premise of each story. He introduced himself as Ezra eventually, and told you the teenager was called Cee, and it was only his second year with her in his care.
Once he had chosen a book, he paid for it and bid you a goodbye, leaving you with a yearning in your heart you hadn’t felt before he entered your bookstore. Your drink was cold when you went to take a sip, and as you sat back in your armchair you noticed further down the road Ezra turning back to look wistfully in the direction of your shop before getting into a vintage car and driving off.
You felt your mood slump over the next week as you thought of Ezra. You never expected to see him again, you could count the number of regular customers you got on one hand. But you wished every morning when you opened up that today would be the day he would stroll back in. You didn’t know what it was about him, maybe the self assured walk, or the clear, well educated way he spoke, or how quickly he trusted you to choose just the right book for someone he loved. He was attractive too, there was no denying that.
When he did come back into the bookstore it was near closing time. You were sweeping the floors, picking up discarded books and finding their rightful place on the shelves. Hearing the bell ring made you sigh at first, but when you saw who it was through the gaps of a bookshelf you couldn’t help but beam with happiness. You walked into view and when Ezra caught your eye, his smile was just as bright as yours.
“Bookworm, I must begin by apologising for not coming to see you sooner,” Ezra spoke sincerely, meeting you in the middle of the shop until he was standing almost toe to toe with you, “you understand how busy the festive holidays are.” You nodded, having barely had a moment to yourself since the last time the two of you had met.
“It’s alright. Was there another book you needed to buy?” You asked, but before you could start thinking of new books to show him he was shaking his head.
“Now please tell me if I am overstepping an invisible line, or making you uncomfortable, for that is not my intention, but the way you spoke about your favourite books the last time I was here was a wonderful tonic to my often racing mind. Your passion for literature spoke to me, and I think we could have many enlightening conversations about such things, and much more.”
Your heartbeat surged with hope as you listened to Ezra speak so eloquently about his feelings. You gripped tightly onto the broom with both hands, anxious to hear him get to the point he was making.
“So would you allow me to take you out one day? Do you like coffee?” He watched your features, trying to read your response as he asked.
“I love coffee,” you assured him, grin returning from the shock of Ezra asking you out on a date. He let out a sigh of relief, whilst you giggled nervously. You felt like you were dreaming, as you had wished for a moment like this everyday you were waiting for him to return.
“Well then, not to seem overly eager but I don’t suppose you are free now?”