"Un moment, s'il vous plaît!"
The voice sent a bolt of pure fear straight through her. Lifted straight out of her memories, four years past and yet she recognized it instantly.
"Répétez, s'il vous plaît: merci, monsieur." She could hear it like it was yesterday. This had been a terrible idea. Why was she here? She needed to leave.
And yet she was frozen to the spot, remembering sharp blue eyes and a wicked shark's grin.
...She had to make sure he wasn't selling her book. Or if he was, buy it herself. She didn't know the whims of things like him--it was very possible he'd bought it just to enjoy the suffering it had caused her, then thrown it in a corner--or away--the second she was out the door. She had thought about that a lot over the last four years, and told herself it didn't matter. What became of her book. It was out of her reach now; she might as well have thrown it in an incinerator.
But if there was a chance...
The man who came out into the entryway--and she knew it to be an entryway, not a shop, not a parlor, it would always be fixed thusly in her mind--was both too similar to be anyone else, and too different to match up well in her head.
He was much more put together now than when she'd first seen him. His beard had been trimmed down to what was probably carefully maintained stubble. His hair had definitely had a few whores comb through it since they'd spoken last--fortunately her mother had not been one of them--and he had it pulled back away from his face with a white ribbon. He was wearing gloves, maybe to hide the way his nails were more like claws. She wished he wasn't, because they looked very good on him.
His eyes were dark. His manner was very different. For a few confused moments, she thought perhaps it was actually his twin brother, or perhaps his son, the identical-seeming features a trick of immortality or eternal youth or whatever. But the cane...
He didn't seem to recognize her. That... that was arguably good, yes? She looked very different. She'd been a ratty sort of teenager then, no glasses, eyes the same color thanks to contacts. Her hair was longer now, pulled back in a ponytail that helped it look somewhat more kept. She was dressed professionally. She was taller. Four years of life experience and enough money to buy clothes for herself and her mother that fit them.
He didn't need to recognize her right away. It was good that he didn't. It meant she'd changed.
"I think you may," she replied, wondering vaguely at his game. Why a shut in would suddenly open a bookshop, why he was pretending to be all charming and debonair when she knew damn well he was a sadistic prick who liked to make teenagers kneel on the ground and beg.
No need for introductions; that would surely give her away.
"I work at the local library," she explained instead. "We're always in the market for more books, obviously. And I can see you have plenty available." Her eyes glanced over the piles of books. She wondered, idly, if the stack that had fallen on her had been moved in four years. She'd seen a very nice looking copy of Peter Pan when it had fallen on her face. "In particular, I happen to be looking for children's books."
The voice sent a bolt of pure fear straight through her. Lifted straight out of her memories, four years past and yet she recognized it instantly.
"Répétez, s'il vous plaît: merci, monsieur." She could hear it like it was yesterday. This had been a terrible idea. Why was she here? She needed to leave.
And yet she was frozen to the spot, remembering sharp blue eyes and a wicked shark's grin.
...She had to make sure he wasn't selling her book. Or if he was, buy it herself. She didn't know the whims of things like him--it was very possible he'd bought it just to enjoy the suffering it had caused her, then thrown it in a corner--or away--the second she was out the door. She had thought about that a lot over the last four years, and told herself it didn't matter. What became of her book. It was out of her reach now; she might as well have thrown it in an incinerator.
But if there was a chance...
The man who came out into the entryway--and she knew it to be an entryway, not a shop, not a parlor, it would always be fixed thusly in her mind--was both too similar to be anyone else, and too different to match up well in her head.
He was much more put together now than when she'd first seen him. His beard had been trimmed down to what was probably carefully maintained stubble. His hair had definitely had a few whores comb through it since they'd spoken last--fortunately her mother had not been one of them--and he had it pulled back away from his face with a white ribbon. He was wearing gloves, maybe to hide the way his nails were more like claws. She wished he wasn't, because they looked very good on him.
His eyes were dark. His manner was very different. For a few confused moments, she thought perhaps it was actually his twin brother, or perhaps his son, the identical-seeming features a trick of immortality or eternal youth or whatever. But the cane...
He didn't seem to recognize her. That... that was arguably good, yes? She looked very different. She'd been a ratty sort of teenager then, no glasses, eyes the same color thanks to contacts. Her hair was longer now, pulled back in a ponytail that helped it look somewhat more kept. She was dressed professionally. She was taller. Four years of life experience and enough money to buy clothes for herself and her mother that fit them.
He didn't need to recognize her right away. It was good that he didn't. It meant she'd changed.
"I think you may," she replied, wondering vaguely at his game. Why a shut in would suddenly open a bookshop, why he was pretending to be all charming and debonair when she knew damn well he was a sadistic prick who liked to make teenagers kneel on the ground and beg.
No need for introductions; that would surely give her away.
"I work at the local library," she explained instead. "We're always in the market for more books, obviously. And I can see you have plenty available." Her eyes glanced over the piles of books. She wondered, idly, if the stack that had fallen on her had been moved in four years. She'd seen a very nice looking copy of Peter Pan when it had fallen on her face. "In particular, I happen to be looking for children's books."
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Warm Reunions [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 03-24-2017, 10:33 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by Tindome - 03-25-2017, 09:40 AM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 03-25-2017, 10:58 AM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by Tindome - 03-25-2017, 12:50 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 03-25-2017, 01:03 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by Tindome - 03-25-2017, 02:15 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 03-25-2017, 02:29 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by Tindome - 03-25-2017, 11:20 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 03-25-2017, 11:37 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by Tindome - 03-26-2017, 01:31 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 03-26-2017, 01:41 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by Tindome - 03-26-2017, 02:16 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 03-26-2017, 02:23 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by Tindome - 03-26-2017, 02:48 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 03-26-2017, 02:56 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by Tindome - 03-26-2017, 04:18 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 03-26-2017, 04:26 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by Tindome - 03-26-2017, 07:13 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 03-26-2017, 07:24 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by Tindome - 03-27-2017, 12:24 AM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 03-27-2017, 12:42 AM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by Tindome - 03-27-2017, 12:58 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 03-27-2017, 01:09 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by Tindome - 03-27-2017, 05:03 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 03-27-2017, 05:14 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by Tindome - 03-27-2017, 07:44 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 03-27-2017, 08:23 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by Tindome - 03-28-2017, 10:59 AM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 03-28-2017, 11:25 AM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-01-2017, 05:15 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-01-2017, 05:24 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-02-2017, 06:29 AM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-02-2017, 07:49 AM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-05-2017, 05:02 AM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-05-2017, 10:31 AM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-05-2017, 01:58 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-05-2017, 02:21 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-05-2017, 03:09 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-05-2017, 03:20 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-05-2017, 10:15 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-05-2017, 10:46 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-06-2017, 03:33 AM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-06-2017, 04:12 AM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-06-2017, 05:28 AM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-06-2017, 11:20 AM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-07-2017, 03:30 AM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-07-2017, 09:25 AM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-07-2017, 06:22 PM
RE: Warm Reunions [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-07-2017, 06:34 PM