time: 9:45am
location: the yellow book road
availability: open to all !!
Of late, Adam had found the courage to venture for short periods of time from his home - was it courage, or was it curiosity? - simply to walk. To walk to wander; when the incessant nagging of his live-in caretakers grew too much, when he found that cobwebs had, once again, begun to form upon his stoic shoulders where they hunched over the armchair in his study, he found that walking was the temporary cure-all that he needed. A morose expression and a coat with collar turned upward dissuaded most from stopping him in his rounds; it was much easier to go out, make a lap about the square, and come back, simply to make Adam feel as if he had accomplished something, and that he could justify not speaking to anyone for another long while.Ā
But, of late, heād found himself stopping. Where once heād have been content to simply walk past, Adam found himself coming to a halt at the wide front window of The Yellow Book Road, eyes pushing past his own unseemly reflection and into the shop, where faceless figures milled about, books and cups of coffee in hand and attention turned far from the watchful eyes outside the window which separated them (a particular face, he did not wish to admit he searched for). Mindless, he stood, stood, stared; never had he gone inside, for he had his own personal library to keep his mind occupied. His own collection, he figured, was likely much greater, but The Yellow Book Road was undeniably much lighter.Ā
And so he stood, quite frozen, and watched, momentarily forgetting the desire for solitude.
Daylight soaks her skin with a warmth in which Phoebe had managed to believe had been lost among the world. A bitter cold chill took ahold of the girl within the confides of four walls. Her own personal tower, a sanctuary in which sheād never asked for. Yet, itās her mothers voice that rings true within her most lonely of moments ---- mother knows best. So she abides. Finding herself drawn to the woman who gives her everything, who gives her nothing. Curfew around the clock, eyes peering through sought out solaces and the ever looming presence of a woman scorned. What a life sheās led. Remaining a bird within gilded cage, relentless in her desire to break free. Light footfalls carry the girl, already three hours had the morning stole from Phoebeās grip, as bustling streets become something of whimsical daydreams. As if for the first time, gaze trails from person to person as Phoebe remains nothing if not mesmerized. Yet, wide eyes fall upon him and itās as if time stops. For a moments clarity washes over her, sorrow fills a heart so prominent as she side steps coffee vendor if only to catch Adam in thought.Ā
āYou know, I never took you to be a window shopper.ā Saccharine, her words genuine in delivery as corner of her lips twitch into warming smile. He remains an open book to her, each page more agonizing than the last and yet, itād be foolish to leave him unread , undiscovered. In her eyes, he was free. Something Phoebe had only dreamed to be. Yet, if anything, heād shackled himself to the shadow barren manor heād called home. Ā It was her nature, a curiosity that itched beneath the surface, that had drawn her to the man. Simple curiosity. Arms fold against her chest, a quick side swept glance at his features before she too takes post before the Yellow Book Road. How blissfully unaware, how ignorantly happy the patrons seemed to be. To her assumption, it mirrored the rest of Hermosa quite well. Thoughts wash away just as quick as theyād come, sunlight droplets seeping into her skin to cause nothing but optimistic radiance to pour from her tongue.Ā āJust so you know, if youāre going for inconspicuous, you could do better. Then again, it looks like you havenāt drank coffee or had a decent nights sleep in about five years so you might want to start there.āĀ
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