Bookish // Ash & Mary-Lynnette
Mary-Lynnette loved the library in town. The seemingly endless shop that contained ever novel she could ever want. Heading into the store with novels on supernova’s to return, Mare had a small smile on her face. Quickly, the old lady at the desk helped her with the books and she was free to roam the shelves. Her hands roamed along the spines of the novels as she headed back into the science section but, as she passed the classics a flicker of blonde hair caught her attention. Although his back was to her, she could recognize that boy anywhere. The one from the bar. Who would of guessed he liked literature?
The smile on Mary-Lynnette’s face grew to a smirk as she realized, she caught him in a compromising position. Tiptoeing up to him with her arms crossed, she looked over his shoulder to see the books he was browsing. Shakespeare. Her hand automatically went out to tap his shoulder but, once she remembered what happened last time, Mare just cleared her throat loudly instead. Keeping the smug smile on her face, she commented “Don’t you just love his use of meter, or there lack of, to show when things are tense and important.”
Hungover, there wasn’t a chance Ash was going into the bar that day. Just the smell would make him sick and he wasn’t up for that today. Instead he called a cab and got a ride down to the local library. Far less nauseating as long as he didn’t actually try to read one, picking out books for later was one of the few productive things that Ash could do with his time that he felt up to. Waving the yellow cab off after the cabbie checked for a third time that he was going to be alright, Ash sauntered up to the underwhelming library doors and slipped in.
Once inside, Ash made his way quickly to the back where the Elizabethan poetry was located. Like at the bars, Ash knew what he wanted and he knew where to get it. Despite having all the time in the world, he acted like there was no time to lose. Walking slower once he got to the correct row, Ash’s eyes scanned the spines, looking for the specific volume he had in mind.
It took longer than he had expected, but Ash eventually found it. Pulling the beautiful hardcover from the shelf, Ash admired the front to make sure the spine hadn’t deceived him and it was in fact the volume he had been looking for. As he did, Ash could hear someone approaching behind him, most likely a girl from the light footsteps. Waiting till she wanted her presence to be known, Ash let the guise stand.
After she was done speaking, Ash turned around. “I actually prefer the satire. ‘My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips’ red’ His aim to mock the overdone language of romantic poetry actually matches quite well with that of One Perfect Rose by Parker, wouldn’t you say?” She had tried to call him out on his love of literature. Two could play that game.
