𖦹 ────────── ꗃ prologue.
❛ some idiot with a jeep. ❜
( ©-LOSTGARDENS, 2024 )Stupid was what it was. It was so stupid that people didn't know how to put books back in their designated places. It was a public library, for God's sake, not their personal bookshelves; they should have the decency to think of others—other readers and the workers that have to rearrange the books at the end of the day.
Dior carried ten books—three of those being from her own pickings, the others being ones people had discarded and she came across. She weaved her way through the bookshelves, trying to find the proper places for them, muttering frustrations under her breath. It drove her crazy. It wasn't that hard to grab a book, read it or use it, and then put it back where you found it. Why couldn't people seem to comprehend that?
Sighing, the girl put away the books that weren't the ones she wasn't checking out and began making her way over to the librarian's desk. It was then that she realized she was only carrying three books for herself. But she needed four. She had to have four. Her mind was telling her that as she stopped in her tracks, looking down at the spines of the books she held.
She had to have four.
Quickly, she turned around and rushed back over to one of the shelves. She scanned it urgently, trying to find something that piqued her interest, and when she did, she wasted no time in grabbing it. A weight felt like it had been lifted off her chest as she turned around and went back to the front desk and softly smiled at the librarian in front of her.
She wondered why she worked there; it wasn't as if the library was a big hit around town. Most were too interested in sports, specifically lacrosse, and were too busy to read. Or they just didn't want to waste their spare time by putting their face in a book. Dior wondered if it got lonely in there, only having other loners around. Maybe that was why she liked it.
The thoughts left her mind as she set the books down in front of her in a neat stack, letting the librarian, who she knew was named Ruby based on her name tag, scan them one by one. She knew Dior's routine, and yet she still placed the books in a messy stack once she was done. It was fine, however. Dior simply pulled her sleeves down over her hands, not wanting to touch her skin to the books immediately after someone else did, and straightened them out before grabbing them and holding them close to her chest.
YOU ARE READING
My Tears Ricochet. STILES STILINSKI
Fanfiction───── 𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒐𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒕 ⨳ 𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗦 𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗞𝗜 . . . ꗃ≀ ▊✹ ❛ 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦, 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥. 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸...