mid-morning on friday, december thirty-first, at out of this world bookstore. closed for @kircn ♥
New Years is supposed to be a time of beginnings, of optimism, of hope --- it certainly doesn’t feel that way to Key, and the book in his hands reflects his slightly negative attitude towards it all. It’s more of a prop than something he’s actually interested in, of course, but Mr. King never seems to write very much about optimistic things, which suits him rather well at the moment.
Making a slight face at a particularly gruesome line, Key looks away, flitting his gaze about the book shop that he’s been frequenting so regularly lately. It all seems familiar now, but still with a particular sort of excitement and of anticipation for the person he is actually here to see. He doesn’t quite know how he fell into this easy pattern of back and forth with the bookshop owner, but what he does know is that they are adorable when Key can manage to make them bashful. Maybe that’s the level he needs to be on instead.
“I think this book makes me hate books.” He states definitively, and with no small amount of dry sarcasm. Flipping through the pages, Key turns his attention to where they are standing, somehow managing to catch the meager sunlight streaming in through one of the windows in a manner that makes them almost glow. Perhaps that’s just Key’s imagination. “I can see why I need your guidance when it comes to book recommendations. My instincts are shit.” A small smirk there, and he closes the book entirely with a soft clap.