sometimes, all it took was a small kindness to set somebody back on track. elspeth had learned that the hard way — there had been many times in their life where a tiny act of sweetness, of self-sacrifice, could have righted her, and yet nobody had seemed to notice the sadness that followed her around like a dark cloud. whatever was happening inside phoebe’s head meant, for a moment, neither of them were invisible. they giggled sweetly and allowed the other to help, splitting the stacks of books a little more evenly so they weren’t being suffocated beneath them.
“ugh, right! who needs them!” they mused, once their arms were empty enough to form coherent thought. elspeth would run out of fingers if she tried to count how many times her profession had been mansplained to her, and she secretly revelled whenever they made a mistake or if she was able to correct them further down the line. they suspected that was exactly the type of man phoebe was referencing ; those that were too big for their own boots, towering high only to be inevitably knocked down. “i know they have a bit of a reputation, but hallmark novels are adorable. what more could you want on a cold winter’s night beyond a cheesy festive romance?”
was it delusional to hope that she would have her own? back in tennessee, christmases were often without snow. she could go years without seeing the white blankets, and yet her christmases still remained rather mundane. her life was far from the pages of those sweet, gift-wrapped romances, those meet-cutes and cinnamon kisses. “the classics are amazing, and i love getting my teeth into some brontë every now and again. but, please — as long as someone is reading, that should be celebrated.”
friends outside her dark, gloomy, cold professional world were few and far between. whether this was a friendship or not, elspeth wanted to grab ahold of it with both hands — or she would have done, if they hadn’t been filled with books. “you know what? that sounds lovely,” they mused, “my schedule is all over the place, but let me right down my number. when i have a day free, maybe we should grab a coffee. it’s like my lifeblood,” they swore they ran on the stuff at that point ; if they were ever hospitalised, the doctors would need to call up starbucks before the transfusions team. “we’re a dying breed.”
