Hodgkins and Figgs had been a sanctuary for Cecily from the moment she first stepped through its doors over a century earlier. Mr. Hodgkins and Mr. Figgs themselves had greeted her at the door of their seldom-frequented shop, ecstatic to see a customer coming to browse through their selection. The were taken with the young woman without a family or a path, and though it wasn’t very common at the time, the aging gentlemen offered her an apprenticeship with them. Cecily had been happy to find a purpose after flitting from town to town for years, avoiding getting too attached to any people or places because she knew that she would eventually have to leave. In Blackvale, however, she didn’t have to worry about that. Because she couldn’t leave.
As the years went on, Cecily worked alongside the store owners and made changes to the business as she saw fit, as they eventually gave her free reign. It wasn’t long before the store became a popular spot in the neighborhood and book were quite literally flying off the shelves. As was commonplace in Cecily’s life, however, she would outlive dear Hodgkins and Figgs by many, many years; they left the store to her in their wills, and tears had actually pricked at the corners of her eyes the first day she walked into the store whose deed now bore her name.It was still doing well years later - not quite as popular as it was before the advent of modern technology, but still well enough that Cecily didn’t have to worry. Perhaps the best choice she ever made was creating a dedicated fantasy section, both so the supernatural could learn more about themselves and so children could delight in the stories.
Her favorite time of day to sit at the counter in the shop was when the sun was setting; the front windows received the afternoon light and it cast a calming glow over the shelves. This late afternoon, the bell chimed to indicate that someone had come through the front door. Cecily didn’t pay it any mind - people didn’t like it when a storeowner bothered them while they were browsing - and only looked up from her own book when the man approached the counter. She was a bit taken aback by the smile that spread so easily over his lips, and her glance lingered on his face for just a moment before shifting to the book in question. “I don’t know if it’s still in print,” she returned, nose scrunching slightly as she took the book from him and read the title and author. “But I could always look into it for you, if you’d like.”
Gui watched carefully as she grabbed at the book, inspecting it closer in an attempt to address his query. A soft roll of his shoulders and a clearing of his throat lessened the grin that had overtaken his visage. Perhaps, he thought, it might bode him well to come across a little less stalker-ish. "Of course it's in print, darlin'." Gui drawls, taking a step closer to the counter, elbow pressing against it's top as he leaned his weight against it. "That there's a classic. Translates well, too. French version is almost a different novel in its entirety— though equally as exciting."
He'd wave a hand, perhaps meant for himself, in an attempt to keep from oversharing. Guillaume had a tendency to become excited. Not everyone handled that well.
"That's not the only reason I'm here." He blinked a few times, rapidly, slowly swallowing a lump that had began to form in his throat. It'd be easy, surely, to just ask the girl for her number. Give her a call. Ask her on a date. But Gui, boy, did Guillaume have a hard time with people. "I, uh- wondered if you had any recommendations of your own?"
