This may be a little project I'm working on for the Christmas holidays or it'll just work out as a one shot. But I'm not really sure. The thunder is really loud and I'm really scared so I might just leave it here. I do hope you enjoy and I hope you give comments on what you think! Thank you! Lots of love.
People don't normally say much about me because they don't really see me. It's not that I'm hiding… it's just that I'm just there, and no one takes notice at the person who's just… there.
People take notice at those who walk into the room with a grand entrance, the ones who are loud, the ones who are extremely quiet, the ones who are positively attractive, and the ones who are negatively ugly and well, you get the drill.
Though, there are some people who talk about me. Like, my friends and families.
People call me Lily.
Some people also call me Lithany.
It all depends on how pretentious they want to be.
But, I prefer to be called Lithany. Really.
The sun was not as bright.
This shouldn't really surprise me.
I am not as bright.
This shouldn't really surprise me, either.
That's why I'm reading a book in the school library. The library was deserted, though the students always say there are always ghosts roaming around, considering the school is old and the books are just ancient.
They say, if the library is quiet enough, you can actually hear the souls of the Kings and Queens we learn about, conversing.
I reckon that's bullshit because I don't hear anything now.
So, I guess I'm actually alone with the librarian after all.
The university's library are one of those vintage libraries where you see portraits of prominent historical figures, well for example, I'm currently sitting next to Mary Tudor, who practically burned every Protestant there is in her days.
There are huge shelves, which reaches the ceiling and colour coordinated classic books. (Which look quite cool in pictures, because you make people think you're sophisticated and all.)
I only like being here because people rarely come here, even though here is the best source of information there is. Well, not the best actually, there's another library which is much more equipped in technology just two blocks down this library.
So, that's why no one comes here.
And maybe it's because they're afraid of ghosts. I don't know.
"Um, can you move?" I look up, expecting to see the face of the librarian asking me to stop lying down on the floor. Call me disgusting or unhygienic. I don't care. I like reading while lying down, they say it's better for your blood flow. Or something.
Expectations are once again let down because I'm not really alone with the librarian after all. For god knows, how much I want to be.
No. I do not want to have kinky sex on the table with the librarian. Even if I do… well, I don't.
"Uh, yeah sure. Sorry." I sit up from the ground and lean against the wall. Just underneath the portrait of Mary Tudor. Putting the book I was reading right in front of my face, to hide my utter embarrassment from the famous James Xavier.
Who knew James Xavier would be in the library on the last week of the first term. And it's the old library!
Nobody. That's the answer.
Hey, it's not really my fault that I thought it would be fine to lie down on the floor, for like the 605th time in the library. (I didn't really count, my maths is too poor.)
James Xavier is not the kind of person who goes to the library, even if it's not the last week of the first term, or any day, to be precise. In fact, no one is the kind of person who goes to the library on the last week of first term!
That's why I go to the library precisely on this week!
Okay, who cares, right? It's not like James Xavier is going to rat you out to the librarian, saying that you're having a picnic with the portrait of Bloody Mary behind the last bookshelf.
I pretend to take interest in my book, but I really couldn't care less. I'm just waiting for him to take his book and leave.
He did (I didn't see the title of his book.) and I retreat back to my original position, which is lying down on the floor.
Then I spent a couple of minutes thinking about James Xavier's face and how I actually didn't want him to leave. I've never really taken notice at his face in detail, to be honest. He has brown hair, perfectly fair skin and that's all I seem to know despite the talk going around school all the time.
James Xavier is not famous for his looks. That is just a bonus point. So is his photographic memory.
My point is that James comes from the Xavier family, who own rubber plantations all over Asia and resource companies throughout the world. So, even if he's ugly, he would have women falling head over heels over him…. His money… His father's money.
"Ms. Hans, I know there's not a rule saying that you can't lie down on the floor, but I will make one." I've never felt myself move as fast in my life before. One minute I was relaxing myself with a book, the next I was standing face to face with the librarian.
Mr. Wellington, the librarian was an old man who wore old black sweaters with buttoned down shirts and a frustrated frown everyday in the year. There's nothing much to say about him… um, people say Mr. Wellington was as dashing as Brad Pitt, when he was our age. Though, I really can't picture that.
"Sorry, Mr. Wellington." I apologise. Though, I never got an A for drama, I do think my sincere voice sounds quite convincing.
"If I get another report saying you're practicing how to make a snow angel behind the last bookshelf. You're banned from the library for three months."
Someone reported me to the librarian?
... … And to think, that I had an unrequited crush on him for a week.
Not the librarian.
Even though, he's an ass too.
Mum always tells me that I shouldn't talk to strangers. It's actually not talking to a stranger if it's a barista at Starbucks.
It's not talking to a stranger if the barista at Starbucks is actually your roommate.
"Caramel Frap for Lil bunny." Zher, my best friend calls out. Zher works in Starbucks for fun, because she has no reason to work in Starbucks considering her family is reasonably wealthy and known. Zher is the most friendly person you'll ever meet at Starbucks. She writes a nickname down and draws a smiley face on every customer's cup, which is a lot of work but she does it anyways.
Kinda works, also kinda doesn't.
Starbucks was not completely empty. There were cute little ornaments hung on the walls which they sell for 2 dollars outside the supermarket a few blocks away. People wise, there were a few couples seated by the ends of every corners, snuggling together with cups of coffee and there were three business men reading a pile of papers with their laptops switched on. I don't know why they're in Starbucks.
I'm waiting for Zher's shift to be over so we can talk about things and go Christmas shopping before we go back home for… well, Christmas. She doesn't come off till half an hour, so I waited for half an hour, staring out the window, seeing snow falling on the ground.
"You look glum," Zher tells me, putting on her coat. Zher also has this special ability to tell how anyone's day has been. People say it's because she's a redhead and redheads have special abilities. Some people also say it's because her black eyes can stare into your soul.
Zher is just really observant.
"Well, I managed to embarrass my ass off in library." I tell Zher, not taking my eyes off the snow falling onto the already snow covered ground.
"Was your ass flat on the ground?" Zher asks, her curious right eyebrow raised. I know that because I'm looking at her now.
I considered my answer, "Maybe." I settled with that.
Zher laughs, like really hard. Too hard. "What did he say?"
Assuming Zher the 'he' is referring to the librarian. I tell her exactly what he said to me. The conversation ends with another psychotic laugh, and we set off to buy presents.
I didn't really bother telling her about my encounter with James Xavier because it's not like he noticed me for even 3 seconds. And he probably will never notice me again, so I just shrug it off.
Beisdes, people say love at first sight only occurs when you look at that someone, for approximately 8 seconds.
I don't go to the library until Friday, which is the last day of school actually, and everyone has already decided to leave early for Christmas. Everyone as in the lazy people only.
Not saying that I'm not lazy, but I'm just a little more hardworking considering I basically not-aced every test I had for the past term.
Mr. Wellington is sitting on his table, his glasses hanging on the bridge of his nose. There are a bunch of books piled up on the desk, I don't know and don't care what he's doing. He's just, doing it.
And I'm reading a different book, which I picked up at the business department but I'm sitting at the same spot as Monday. As of everyday, really. Except this time, I'm sitting on a chair, and I can't focus on any of the words. Which, really suck because I need to ace next term's test about financial crisis in the past years.
I can't believe there are people who still care about this kind of things.
"Grew a backbone?" I hear someone saying. I would've ignored it, but then I realise that I was supposed to be alone because the librarian never talks to me, unless I'm lying on the down on the floor.
So, I guess maybe Richard III is talking to me, because William Shakespeare says he has a crooked backbone. So, when I turn around, I expect to see the Hunchback of Notre Dame, not James Xavier.
He was wearing white, with black pants. His brown hair seemed a shade darker it was probably because it was a little wet from the snow, or he's just sweating in the cold weather. He's leaning against the bookshelf, hands holding a book, there was a pink bookmark sticking out.
I feel myself being too overwhelmed to say anything, because James Xavier is talking to me, but I got to say something. "Huh?"
I hear him leave out a chuckle.
There goes my witty comeback.
I had none. So I turn back to pretend to read.
"Hey, before you faint," He tells me, as he walks and stands in front of me.
I do not seem that in love with him right?
Because I don't want to seem in love with him. Because I'm not. At least, I think I'm not. I'm a female, and I'm naturally attracted to attractive males. Not saying a female can't be attracted to female. I'm just saying I'm attracted to male.
"Happy holidays." James Xavier wishes me, a grin on his face. More like a smug look. He doesn't leave, like how every jock does in those cliché romance books.
He stands there, and waits for my reply.
I considered slamming my book shut and walking out, like how every girl in cliché romance books does. Trying to play hard to get.
But I'm a softie.
"Happy holidays too." I look up and say to him.
His eyes were the lightest shade of brown. Like caramel, or coffee with a lot of milk.
Hope you liked it!
Lots of love.