𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞

Elysian

"C'mon!" She shrieked, tugging on his wrist.

Florence dragged Clair through the cobblestone streets of London. Her hair whipping behind her, not looking back it him once. Clair adored the way she didn't seem to care. Barely even noticed the passerby's, shooting them disapproving glares. Being with her had an effect on Clair, one, he noticed he was addicted to. Time was slower with Florence, if the world was invisible to her, surely, it became invisible to him. It was more than exciting, it was freeing. The sun beating down on them, Florence's dress flying behind her, the wind in his hair. Finally she came to a halted stop in front of an old corner store with a sagging roof. She didn't let go of his wrist, Clair was glad.

"Here." She panted.

Clair tried to observe the painted words on the window, but they were dull and far to cracked to read. Florence moved forward and pushed the door open. She walked in backwards, watching as Clair realized what he had stepped in to. Sweeping his head around, he observed the shelves. Lining every inch of every wall, a labyrinth of standing shelves in the middle. The aroma of parchment and dusty covers hit him. Breathless, he moved in a trance, toward the rows of standing shelves.

Clair pulled books out at random, savoring all the different titles and crinkled covers. A thick layer of dust rimmed the shelves, but he didn't seem to care. He moved from aisle to aisle, muttering to himself, absolutely gleeful. Florence followed close behind, biting her lip nervously as he took it all in. Finally, upon fitting another book back into it's place on the shelf, he looked at her.

"Do you like it?" She asked carefully.

"Florence." He simply exhaled her name.

Leaning against the shelf, he turned his head sideways to look at her. He studied her for a brief moment. Her feature now bathed in gold from the dim light of the old bookstore. Her wide ever-curious eyes, a lock of her deep brown hair obscuring one. Clair instinctively reached his hand out and tucked it neatly behind her ear. He heard Florence's breath shudder at that.

"This," He paused to take it all in again.

"This is absolutely wonderful. It's perfect, it's," Clair paused again, shutting his eyes in thought.

"Elysian." He said decidedly.

Florence cocked her head to the side cutely.

Moving closer she asked, "And what might that mean?"

"Like heaven, or having characteristics of heaven." He explained gently to the hazel-eyed girl next to him.

"Florence?" A wavering voice called out.

Florence looked feverish, and pulled herself away from Clair.

"Oh, yes! It's just me." She piped, rounding the corner towards the front of the book store.

"Well, not just me, I suppose." She corrected herself with a slight laugh.

"Ah, and who've you brought with you?" The voice inquired.

Clair rounded the corner of the bookshelf just in time, Florence stepping aside so he could be seen. A thin old man eyed, presumably the store owner, eyed him up and down. He gave Florence almost a suggestive glance, to which she blushed. The old man understand and let out a little chuckle.