ordinary day

in case you were wondering what I do while working at the library everyday THIS IS WHAT I'M DOING EVERYDAY. dreaming about this actually happening. and psh no of course I'm not in love what are you saying.

it was any other ordinary day

I walked into the library in the back entrance in the early morning light and the fresh air after rain

to quiet nods and good mornings and tossed my keys and bag gently into my locker

wheeled the cart full of books to the right out of the back, into the elevator, and up to the next floor

I’d already been in my routine for a while before I saw you

or rather I subtly sensed or heard or felt you, I’m not sure which one was first

maybe it was the creaking of the old wooden floors beneath your feet

or a breath of air brushing imperceptibly past your lips

or a careful scuffing through the rows on rows of books

maybe it was the touch of your eyes when my back was turned

but my first sight of you was through the shelves of books

just a glimpse of a pair of hands

strong and tanned and rifling through my books without infringing

what a better combination than well-muscled hands and a well-read mind I thought

and then felt like hitting myself cause I felt like I was already falling

and cause I’m such a wishful thinker when I don’t want to be and such a cynic when I don’t want to be

I kept returning the books to their homes on the shelves

embarrassingly aware of his presence on the other side of the row

and living in anticipation of the point when I’d have to put a book away on the same row in which he stood

until

as I reached to tuck a thick novel in between it’s two neighbors on the highest shelf

he entered the corner of my vision, neck bent over and brows furrowed in complete concentration on the book in hand

I focused much too single-mindedly on the task at hand

as he looked up from the back of the book, his eyes searching aimlessly

till they found me

I determinedly avoided them focusing on the way the light played with the dust failing to settle on my books, the way my ring was twisted too far to the left, how I needed to cut my nails

I felt the movement of you turning down the aisle and remember turning towards you much too vividly

tucking my hair behind my ear self-consciously

everything was sharp and clear to perfection at the same time surrounded by a haze

I remember a thousand things that I noticed in that first glance

the soft dark unconcerned hair

the firm jawline

your eyes were all the colors of the ocean

slightly bleary from morning and framed by thick lashes

your skin was the shade of a working man

and was that a spray of freckles across your nose?

your eyes widened fractionally as I turned, as if taken slightly off guard

my heart fluttered annoyingly. was this stuff not just for, like, YA fiction or something?

you bit your lip self-consciously and asked politely did I work here

I responded with a smile and didn’t remember what I said

you asked something about a book on military history,

moving closer to show me the author’s name on the book in your hardened hands

“it was written by this same guy, but I didn’t see it over there”

“what did you say the title was, again?” I said, moving towards the computer, even though I knew he hadn’t

he told me, laughing a little at the drama of the name

I wanted to turn and look at you but I was facing the computer and you were behind me

I wanted to see what you looked like when you laughed

I typed it into the search engine, my hands a little too flighty, 

and sought it out for him in the new arrival section, explaining his mistake to him

he apologized and I tripped over my words in an effort to relieve him

“oh, no problem, don’t worry about it- it happens to me all the time”

you actually looked slightly amused by this as I handed the book over to you

“does it?” I hesitated and you laughed and this time I saw

your face light up and sunshine pour out

and your slightly crooked, imperfect smile

“well, I kind of work here, so I’ve kind of gotten used to it, but it used it to happen to me all the time. so don’t feel bad- I know how you feel.”

you laughed some more at this and looked me in the eye. “well, good I feel better now” you say, still looking me in the eye.

“good” I reply with a smile playing on my lips and I can’t stop it

then you say thanks and I say no problem

and in my mind I think

I like you

12:45 am