Of Mochas and Macchiatos

Part 7

Author's note...

(Ohmigosh guys I. Am. An. AUTHOR. NOW!!! So exciting.)

Okey, I know that this story has only been up for, like, three weeks but sometimes it's disheartening to have only so few reads SO I would like to thank my readers!! There are like six of you (right now!) and I love you all. Thank you!!! xxx

p1nksunflower

tuivaiti

myspacexo

yssbiac

xbrxiia

wthwheresthedog

I adore you guys! Sending you a thousand hugs <3

OoooOooh and also, this chapter is extra dramatic cos I felt slightly dramatic so yeah! Hope you like!! xx

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We didn't really get much study done. Does anyone every actually study in the library anymore? I mean I know I do, but I feel like virtually the only person around here who does. I remember the months before I first moved to Astoria. I'd dropped a bunch of boxes at my apartment and set about exploring the town. Gazing up in wonder at the manor houses and tall trees that lined the streets, I kept thinking how the place didn't quite look real, more like a Victorian painting. And then I discovered the library. Oh, the library. It was like I'd stepped into the library of Hogwarts. So much knowledge contained in one exquisitely beautiful place.

Back then, I'd entertained absurdly romantic notions of perusing the shelves of the town's library, searching for a book for my homework, and incidentally stumbling into a boy whom I'd fall in love with and eventually marry. It just seemed like that kind of place. So magical and full of hope, splendour.

Seriously, though. How stupid was I? Those ever-so-romantic thoughts are long gone now though. There's no way I'd ever date some Astoria boy, let alone marry one. That innocent naïvety of my past has long since been replaced with a kind of dark cynicism of the world. A bitterness. And although once upon a time, I once dreamed of moving to Astoria, daydreamed about living here, even...belonging here, nowadays, I can't wait to leave.

Sometimes though, like when I look upon the splendour of the gothic style castles on campus, I am enveloped by a kind of nostalgia. The wonder I experienced when I first saw this Stepford-esque place. And I am suddenly awash with a desire to stay here, to allow the years to shape me into the ideal Astorian citizen. But such thoughts usually dissipate after a few seconds. Replaced with the cold harsh reality that I just do not fit in here.

That hopeful feeling did engulf me for a few seconds when Rafe and I entered the library. The place isn't as grand as old Barnes' little sanctuary but still, it is gorgeous. And it is so lively. The library bustles with people. Students chattering wildly, stretched out upon couches, playing games on their phones, video chatting their loved ones, taking selfies. There are even a few people sleeping. Strangely enough, nobody actually does seem to study. It's like a contagion that grips you with its delinquent-like tentacles as soon as you walk through the door. The urge to forget about homework and just relax, have fun, drop all your priorities. Time seems to stop here, and in the middle of the library where towering shelves surround you on all sides, it's impossible to tell whether it is day or night.