Setting: Telley's (Maggie's bookstore); September 29, 2013; 5:00 P.M.
Summary: Owen meets Maggie.
About Characters:
Owen:
N/A
Maggie (hellomsmagic):
N/A
owenalexander:
hellomsmagic started following you
Upon one of his travels, Owen Alexander found himself exploring the streets during his leisure time, as he did with most cities. With a Christmas face, he entered a local bookstore: Telley’s. He was relaxed but eager as his eyes darted across the binds. He wandered into the “J’s” section and grinned and the scale of it all. The aisles were compact. Books were stacked, vertical, slanted, neat, messy, old, new—it was comfortable.
His fingers were reaching for a tattered green when a voice called to him. A natural smile swooped over his face, but Owen’s eyebrows furrowed. Bella? Iver? Or was this someone else entirely? “Have we met?”
hellomsmagic:
Maggie looked up from her magazine when she heard the door to her bookstore opened. She watched him curiously for a few moments as he puttered around the shelves. She closed her magazine and went to go see if he needed any help. She smiled at her new customer, “Hi. Can I help you?” She pulled her brunette hair to the side as she looked up at him. His next question was a little odd, however. “I’m sorry? I…don’t think so…” She chuckled awkwardly, wringing her hands together. Where did that come from? She looked his features over as she thought back; nope, she didn’t remember him. Perhaps he had come into the shop before, but sometimes on busy days, everything’s just a blur. “I think you might have me mixed up with someone else.” She said, chewing her lip. “Sorry. But do you need any help looking for a book?”
owenalexander:
Fingers fell from binding, and Owen bowed his head in amusement. “I am terribly sorry; I do not mean to make you uncomfortable. Must be someone else.”
"My name is Owen," he introduced. His hand stretched across the distance for a shake.
owenalexander:
"Maggi Magic." The oblivious man's hand fell to his side.
"No, ma'am; however, I would not mind a work of historical fiction. Any suggestions?"
It was the day after the encounter happened.Loki had slept with his boss.He knew he had feelings for her,that was clear,but now he wondered if he ruined it with her.When they had finished,they fell asleep and woke up not long after but instead of talking,they had gotten dressed and parted ways without a word said.
Loki sighed as he parked his car.He got out and walked into the bookstore.He couldn't see Maggie.He went to the register,setting his bag down and beginning his rounds of checking and making sure the books were in their proper place.
Maggie was home alone tonight, laying wide awake in Kace’s bed. She didn’t know where her captor was, or when he was going to be coming home, and so she wrapped herself in his sheets, inhaling his comforting scent. Slowly, she began to get tired, closing her eyes as she rested her head on his pillow.
Tonight didn’t contain the usually mindless dreams, but instead, something entirely different. She saw Kace hovering over her, that hungry look he had in his eyes whenever they were having sex. Maggie shifted slightly in her sleep, subconsciously rubbing her legs together as the dream continued. She was on her back, her legs running up his sides as he moved within her. The lighting was warm, perhaps there was a fire glowing in the background, but all she could focus on was the way his mouth felt on hers, her neck, her collarbone, her breasts… Maggie couldn’t help but let out a soft moan as she slept, peeling the sheets from her body as she felt its temperature rise, her cheeks flushed. He had her wrists pinned above her head, a sign of dominance as he marked her flesh. Maggie would never admit it, but she liked being someone’s possession. As climax came—her dream self screaming Kace’s name at the top of her lungs—Maggie whimpered, rolling side to side in the bed. As the dream slowly slipped from her mind, Maggie woke up, just in time to hear the bedroom door open. Kace was home. The blush was bright on her cheeks as she hid herself under his sheets, giggling to herself of what she had just dreamt of, secretly hoping it would come true.
Upon one of his travels, Owen Alexander found himself exploring the streets during his leisure time, as he did with most cities. With a Christmas face, he entered a local bookstore: Telley's. He was relaxed but eager as his eyes darted across the binds. He wandered into the "J's" section and grinned at the scale of it all. The aisles were compact. Books were stacked, upright, slanted, neat, messy, old, new--it was comfortable.
His fingers were reaching for a tattered green when a voice called to him. A natural smile swooped over his face, but Owen's eyebrows furrowed. Bella? Iver? Or was this someone else entirely? "Have we met?"