Spoiler! :
It was just a little feeling, a feeling when I first saw you
Natalie browsed through the stacks of the tiny bookstore tucked away in a corner of Greenwich Village. She ran her red finger nail delicately over the spines of the books of the poetry section. So many choices, so little money to buy anything. Her meager budget of fifty dollars for books felt so small. She grabbed a paperback copy of poems by Edgar Allan Poe to add to her collection and headed towards the classics where she planned on picking up a copy of Anna Karenina which she had yet to read.
It was then that she spotted her.
Through a hole in the bookshelf, she saw a mass of blue-black hair pulled up with a pen and a pencil. She was dressed in a red blouse and black skirt, paired with a pair of flowered Doc Martens and pink feather earrings. Next to her stood a little old lady with a stack of romance novels, asking whether or not she had chosen the right ones. The girl, who couldn't have been older than early twenties, threw her head back to laugh. To Natalie, it sounded like a genre of music that she had created; it wasn't girly, but it wasn't too deep either. It wasn't sugary sweet, but it wasn't too hard.
It was just a little feeling, a feeling when I first heard you.
"Ma'am," she said. Her voice was feather light and cheery. It was like milk chocolate and she wanted to swim in it. "I think you have picked out the perfect ones. Although if you want me to, I can write you up a list of more at the desk." She was quiet while the woman considered her offer. Natalie tried not to strain to get a better look at her, but she couldn't see the girl's face. It was killing her.
Finally the old woman nodded. "Yes," she murmured. "Yes, that would be very nice." She smiled at the girl and followed her to the checkout desk. Natalie scolded herself. She wasn't here to ogle at the cute bookstore employee. She was here to get books.
And get books she did.
By the time she was ready to pay, she had accumluated a stack that was almost too big to carry. She had the collection of poems by Poe, Anna Karenina, a few Anita Blake mysteries, and a couple of lucky finds by Neil Gaiman. Yeah, she thought, I think I'm good. As she walked up to the checkout counter, she noticed that the girl was standing at the counter. She was leaning against it, her nose buried in a thick volume.
It was then that she saw her face. Her facial features weren't perfect; her nose was slightly crooked and her mouth was set in an odd shape. She was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Nervously she bit the inside of her cheek and winced when she dug my teeth in too hard. She sat her stack on the counter, hands shaking slightly.
The girl looked up from her book and smiled a quirky smile. "Hi there," she chirped. "Ready to check out?" Natalie simply nodded and pushed the stack closer to her. As she took the books and pulled them closer to her, their hands brushed ever so slightly. It was then that Natalie felt a red hot blush creep up her face and into her cheeks.
It was just a little feeling, when I first touched you
But the girl took no notice. She just looked over the books that Natlie had picked out. "Hmm," she began. "Tolstoy, good choice. Poe, well he's just a little weird for my taste. Good writer, but his personal life makes him such a turn-off." When she reached the Gaiman novels, she smiled again. "Ah, Gaiman." She checked those out first. "One of my faves. You'll enjoy these."
"Yeah," Natalie said softly, so softly it was almost a whisper. "I love his stuff. I just don't own it all." After she had gotten her money out of her wallet and handed it to the girl and was given her reciept, the girl began to write quickly on a piece of paper that was laying nearby.
"If you like Neil Gaiman," she began, "definitely try these. They'll be almost as good." Her handwriting was a sloppy scrawl and Natalie's annoyance took over slightly because she knew she wouldn't be able to read it. But when the girl looked up and smiled again, the irritation evaporated. God her smile was cool. "And here's my cell number at the bottom so you can tell me what you think. I'm sure you'll just find me here if you come again, but just in case."
Awkwardly she took the bag of books from her and muttered, "Um, thanks. Really. I'll let you know."
The smile turned to a look of curiousity. "You're not much of a talker are you?" she asked, her voice completely neutral.
Natalie winced internally. "How'd you guess?" She began to head towards the door.
From behind her the girl called out, "Aren't you going to ask what my name is? I don't really think calling me 'you' over the phone is really gonna work." Her voice had a tint of amusement.
Turning around, Natalie sighed, "What do I call you?"
She grinned wider. "Anastasia," she said perkily. "Anastasia is my name. And what do I call you?"
"Natalie."
Anastasia gave a thumbs up. "Okay then," she said. "Let me know what you think of those books. I'll be waiting for you to call." Then, without another word, she returned to reading her book.
It was only when Natalie was walking out the door of the shop that she realized that she hadn't even seen what book Anastasia had been reading was.
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