ThomasLily 76
ThomasLily - 76 - Read a girl who dates books
He’donly ever seen her with books. Which, Thomas supposed, was to beexpected in a public library. He’d come twice a week, and twice aweek she’d be there, at the same table, on the same chair, with adifferent book in hand. He had first noticed her in one of the aislehe’d never seen anyone else but him. She had been brushing her fingeron books so old she could wipe out the dust, and he had wondered whatkind of person other than him would want to read them. The secondtime, he had noticed how well dressed she was. Not that there wasanything wrong with her outfit, she rocked the style, only he wassurprised to see someone dressed to kill for a casual read in acentre town library. The third time he had noticed how littleattention she paid to her surroundings. When she walked in, sheglanced right and left, smiled distantly at the people who turned inher direction, and went straight to a random aisle where she’d pick abook in. Once it was set on the table, nothing in the world couldhave made her lift her eyes.
Withoutrealising, Thomas began to spend more time chaperoning the girl’sliterary rendez-vous than actually reading his own book. He couldn’thelp it, there was something captivating in watching her dive in astory. His eyes would follow the lines of her face, deciphering herexpressions. When she frowned, it meant she’d found a passage thatwas either too dramatic or written badly. When she pinched her lipsand took in a deeper breath, it meant she was holding back tears.When she hid her mouth with her hand in a polite gesture, it meantshe was trying not to laugh too loud. When her gaze lost focus, itmeant she was either dozzing off or trying to imagine herself in thescene she had just read. What Thomas preferred, was when her eyes litup. They widened and her mouth fell open just a little, and he knewat that moment that whatever passage she had fell upon, she hadfallen in love with it. She’d read it over and over again, pressingthe tip of her fingers on the pages to make sure she wouldn’t miss aline. Her hair would fall off her shoulder and conceal part of herface, as if keeping her inside a bubble Thomas wanted to burst in.Satisfied, she’d lean on the back of her chair and stare at theceiling for a minute, then she’d pick up the book, put it back on itsshelf, and leave.
Mostof the time, Thomas had to hold back from running in direction of thebook. He still, however, took it out again, and thumbed through it inan vain attempt to find the moving extract. He never dared interrupther, or walk out with her to ask her what it was that had had such astrong effect on her. He pictured himself doing so, but never wentwith it. Until this one time, when Thomas decided it was time shelearned his existence.
He’donly ever seen her with books. He decided of the best – although alittle lame, he had to admit – course of action:
“Excuseme miss? Would you, by any chance, let me offer you a book?”
