THE ECLIPSE | PJM ✓

02

waxing crescent

TAHANI SET HER jewelled foot forward, eyes peering behind the night market stands and into the village.

The sun was still far from setting, pleasantly casting a shimmery orange veil over the wooden stalls that lined the small town entrance. She was sure the smile that ignited her face as she took in the view would have shone similar to daylight then. Her gaze tracked the first tables of intricate jewellery, necklaces, earrings, anklets created with so much care and precision, to the abundance of fruit and vegetable stores that followed, the foods overflowing into roped baskets on the ground. However, the stall that caught Tahani's eyes were the delicate, handmade novels sitting right at the end of the line.

Her feet instantly picked up speed, bells and bangles clinking together as she sprinted toward the table and skirt flying in the wind. Hands immediately wrapping themselves around the closest book, she brought it closer to her face as she examined the complex threaded work on the cover, and she felt a beam blossom across her lips. Then, satisfied with its beauty, she opened to the first page and began reading.

"Hi, lovely lady," a voice broke her trance about three minutes in, and Tahani looked up to see the stall owner (she supposed) watching her expectantly, "Would you like for me to help you with anything?"

"Oh," Tahani sent the older woman a polite smile, her grey rivulets of hair flowing from the crown of her head and her kind eyes, which instantly captured her own in some sort of a warm embrace, reminded her of her own mother. "No, that's alright, thank you very much. I seem to already be in love with this one."

She bent down to check the title of the book and nodded, "I would have recommended that to you, anyway. It's our most popular book," her smile deepened suddenly as the woman looked at something past Tahani's shoulder.

Furrowing her eyes, confused, she took a step back before turning on her heel to see what it was. But as she did so, she was met with another person's shoulder, accidentally knocking into him, causing whatever he carried in his arms to fall.

Eyes widening, Tahani surprised herself when she instinctively reached her hand out to catch the falling object.

A loaf of bread.

Blinking down at the bakery food in her hand, she slowly raised her gaze to meet a pair of honey-brown eyes on her.

"I-I'm so sorry," she tried to keep her composure as she took in the image of the man in front of her, "I'm so sorry for making you drop this."

"That's fine," the man sent her a polite grin as he lowered his basket for her to place it back on top, "I'm sorry for bumping into you."

Tahani was sure she was going insane. Because there was no way someone who looked like this could exist in this world.

"Ah, sweetheart," the owner of the bookstall spoke then, and they both tore their eyes from each other.

How was it that in those mere heartbeats she felt something rope around her lungs, leaving her gasping for air? A feeling she'd never experienced in all her twenty-three years of living.