Bookshop *(h. s)*

nine

This is kind of a filler chapter to make up for my absence. sorry :/

***

It was quite a relief that the rain had stopped. When Harry had last checked the weather--yesterday before he went to the bookshop--it was said to be rain for the next week. It was still a bit gloomy but the sun was shining, the grass was a nice rich green and birds were chirping. It was a lovely spring day. 

Emerson was quite happy when Harry randomly showed up to her home and invited her to breakfast. There is also how calm and collected he was when he was faced with her uncle, Chris. It made her happy that they seem to have gotten along well. 

The two of them were walking down the street, hand in hand. Surprising the both of them, Emerson made the first move and grabbed Harry's hand first. It shouldn't come off as too big of a surprise. It was Emerson who kissed Harry first last night. One kiss on the cheek that made a thousand butterflies flutter in their chests. 

Although it may seem miniscule, Harry loved that kiss on the cheek more than anything. He hadn't felt the way he had about something so small in quite a while. The last time he ever remembered loving and cherishing something so small in is life was when he received a deck of cards for Christmas when he was nine. He got monster trucks, different types of cars and even a small record player to play music. Though none of them compared to that deck of cards that are buried in a box somewhere in his apartment. 

Emerson was feeling quite good about the kiss, too. She had never been that close and so intimate with another man before, so it was different for her. She hopes that the small boost of confidence she had will gradually grow. 

Being confident was something Emerson had never mastered, even before she went blind. She would lurk around in the shadows and watch as everyone else showed off different toys they got for Christmas or birthdays, or the details of a cool book they were reading. She never had the bravery and confidence to do that. 

It is quite sad how Emerson had to be brave to confront the people she grew up with. But you would develop a certain kind of mindset if everyone around you ignored you and pretended that you weren't even there. This went on for years. 

She never had the courage, bravery and confidence to confront people. 

Although Emerson didn't enjoy being the social outcast, she still had her friends at home. 'Friends' for Emerson was books. Lots and lots of books. Her reading levels were much higher as he grew up. Geronimo Stilton books; the harder of the selection. Any book she could find, she would read. Up until she was ten. 

It seems as if the negative thoughts of her past always seem to seep into her mind one way or another. She tries to block them out and focus on the way Harry's hand feels in her own instead. 

"You're gonna love this place," Harry suddenly spoke up. He had known that Emerson was most likely not going to say anything, which resulted in him saying something he had already said back at the apartment. 

He thought he knew quite a few things about her already. Her favourite food and colour were only a select few of the minimal things he knew about her. he has a desire to know what she is hiding behind those foggy blue eyes. Pain. He could see it. 

Knowing small things about her was important, but he wants to know why she seems to have pain behind her eyes. Why she ended up in the bookshop. Why she lived with her aunt. So many questions with answers just waiting to be discovered. 

"I sure hope so. You dragged me out of bed at eight-thirty in the morning. It better be good or you can kiss me goodbye," Emerson sassed. 

Harry raised an eyebrow at her attractive sass. He hadn't seen much sass; more so manners and shy behaviour from her. Her new-found confidence made Harry feel good. Maybe I should wake her up early everyday.