where the eyes never meet-------------

[Tristan Cameron Hurst]

Dawning the auspiciousness of a new day, Tristan found himself trotting throughout downtown with a persistent thought in his head – he had this uneasiness about attaining a book he was so eager to read and he hadn’t exactly found just yet. After a session of bouldering, his hands were numbed enough to barely manage a decent grip upon his mobile, which indicated the nearest book stores around the area. For having lived for quite a while in here, the lad had little knowledge in concern of the places and their insides, and showed himself pretty heedless on such affairs as he hadn’t resorted to the necessity of fetching anything from them. Food? Nearest market was about the outskirts of the city where he lived, and that translated into a lack of interest for exploring such domain - outside of his frequent strolling and jogging through the verdure of its park. It was the first time he went astray, and eschewing people as he ran by.

The man turned around a corner and without knowing it he was facing the entrance of ‘The Nook and its exterior panes. A place rife with books should suffice for his penchant for this specific volume. He swung the doors open and let himself in with a long stride and steps ensued. Heading to the counter, the man simpered at the tender and apologised for his unkempt mien. Clad with a turquoise clung long-sleeved tee and black running thighs, the dress code wasn’t precisely etiquette when he was engrossed into physical activities and such. Tristan removed the earphones and tugged them neatly inside his pockets before reaching out for the counter and stowing his elbow upon it, trying to demonstrate the imagery his mobile displayed. “ Excuse me. Good morning. Would you, by chance, have this in stock? ” the image portrayed a book cover.

’Hi. Good morning. Mmm… that one seems tricky. I will take more than a couple of minutes to look for it, so maybe you want to wait upstairs and perhaps have a cup of coffee in the meantime’

Tristan’s brows arched in a subtle jumbled notion as he puckered the lips slightly, followed by a short frown, “ Fair enough. I shall be upstairs, then. Thank you ” it was the first time he affronted such hardship at simply finding a title. The doctor glanced sideways before sighing a little resignedly and clasped the banister of the staircase, climbing up as rapidly as he could, just to topple down with someone and causing her coffee to spill all over the floor once he had stepped onto the upper story. “ Oh, dear! I’m terribly sorry, ma’am. Are you alright? ” he queried, bending down to pick up the clutter he had provoked, lifting the mug and hastening to muster a handful of napkins from the closest table, crouching to wipe the floor with them.

“ I am bashfully sorry about this. I’m paying for your coffee and something extra, if you wish ” he construed, sensing his paleness tinged with the flushing notion that invaded his features – his cheekbones dying in a reddish hue along with the rest of his facial skin.

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[Kennedy Snow]

Books....Worlds within ours...the true multiverse...Kennedy could never get enough...Then again she had no life, so pretty much all she had was the fictional and sometimes non fictional adventures of other people. She had been in The Nook so often all of the staff new her there. As soon as she walked in she put up her hair and one of the nice employees named Stephen walked over and grabbed her by the arm. She thanked him with a light squeeze and hug of the arm that she held without having to say a word. They knew her routine. She would always go to the stairs, hesitate to go up for a few seconds then be brave and take the first step. Making an adventure of walking up the stairs holding the railing then she would order her usual. Butterscotch Latte with honey, and sit near an open window off to the side so she got a bit of a breeze.

Stephen took her to the stairs. She made her adventure up the stairs holding the railing. Then another employee walked over and took her coat and put it on the back of her chair for her then brought her to her table and she sat down. A waitress came over and all she had to say was..

"I...I...I..I'll have"

The person said that she knew Kenny's order and Kenny thanked her and brought up her hand to cover a smile. For a few moments she sat there savoring the smell of the room from the fresh ground coffee and sweet pastries. She enjoyed the breeze on her face and closed her broken eyes just sitting and imagining she was in a medieval kingdom, a princess in a tower. But then her order was called. The waitress was busy as she heard the waitress taking other orders. So she decided to get up and get it herself. The princess dragged her hand along the wall and the tables and made her way to the counter. Then when she got there she felt like she could slay a dragon.

Taking her coffee she took some money out of her purse and put it on the counter. Then she took her coffee and turned. Holding one hand covering her smile the other holding the coffee she moved her body against the side banister overlooking the shop. Then as she got to the stairs someone ran into her and her coffee fell. Her smile instantly faded. She was looking forward to that. But the first thing she could think of is if her clumsiness burnt the nice man who was apologizing with her hot coffee.

"M..m..my.my fault...I'm v..vver...very clumsy..Did..did..did..did I burn you?."

Her hands came up and rested on the mans cheeks so that she might see him. to judge whether or not he was angry by his facial features. her broken eyes never made contact with his. Nor anything but she looked away for a moment after feeling his facial features. she imagined him as a dashing rogue like Robin hood, or a brilliant detective like Sherlock Holmes. Then she said something she didn't mean to say. 

"Y....y...y..you're pretty..."

Ok most guys didn't like being called pretty, but to Kenny words of admiration were all the same as all she had was the feeling of the contours of faces and personalities to go by so she could see inner beauty. This was probably the first time in a while she had actually accidentally objectified someone...Then she was intensely embarrassed and reached up to take her hair out of its binding to get her back to her table. The employees loved Kennedy they HATED her hair. It was always causing mischief and making messes for them to clean up. so when one saw her fiddling with her hair tie he walked over and helped her up. Then brought her to her table where she sighed embarrassed. The man behind the counter started making her another of her drink.

"S..s...s.sorry I did..did...didn't mean to.."

[Tristan Cameron Hurst]

Little sufficed for the young fellow to be taken aback and to feel defenceless before something. As a pretty stoic individual, Tristan knew everything about sophrosyne and poise, yet when in regards of the physical contact as of integument against integument and the grazing of epithelial cells from a foreign passenger, he was quite in discomfort with the sole idea. Nonetheless, when her palms moulded to his face and fumbled about his factions, he didn’t do anything but breathing slowly and deeply, drawing a concerned expression upon his facial veneer. The man wasn’t aware of anything about the victim of his blunder except that her coffee had spread over the floor and that he had just cleaned it up with a crammed lump of napkins that was enclosed in his grip. Why was she groping for his face? ‘ Is she alright? ’ he mused to himself, with his eyes roving and assessing whatever clue might explain the reason behind this unrequested examination. Then, just as she spoke again, since he hadn’t hearkened clearly at what she had firstly muttered, her stuttering was pretty blatant to be dismissed by his attention and it was riveted almost summarily. The man squinted lightly, in a gesture of perusing, minding whatever cranial region could be causing it. It was a grand heap of information at once, since he as well regarded at her distant gaze that wasn’t focused at him but at nowhere, and then it beset him, ‘ Cannot see, can we? ’ this was only an assumption, yet that would be the motive for her to read his face through tact.

“ Oh no, please. I was the clots that didn’t even mind my own steps ” he apologised again, and now he even noted the dappled surface of his nylon thighs due the coffee splotches that somehow landed on him, with his brain finally assimilating what she had said at first. “ Just a smidge, but nothing to fret on, really ” he gave a cursory glom at himself to make sure he hadn’t burnt as she poignantly stated, just to reassure the just said assertion, “ Nothing that requires medical tending ” he chuckled, lightly. And then, his ears pricked to the ‘Pretty’ reference. It was slightly odd that such adjective was assigned to a man, in regards of its purely innocent and mostly adorable context, though a compliment was a compliment, even if through an unctuous behaviour – which wasn’t the case, this time. “ I can solemnly say that you’re pretty, as well, Ma’am, and I’m thankful for you to noticing it on me ” a rare habit for treating with patients was that sobriety was an immanent ingredient on a daily basis, and he could arduously whisk outside it.

Soon enough someone aided the young lady to straighten up and Tristan watched her standing back on her feet and being ushered to a table where she seated right by the window pane. The man, a little hectic from what had just happened propped a hand on the floor and helped himself up, planting his right leg on the ground as he employed the other one in a bent position as a pivot to propel himself upwards and back to an erect stance. He bent down to retrieve his mobile phone and the earphones that had thumped against the flat surface and to inspect them thoroughly to assess any damage from the impact. He waited a little and then just strode past a couple of tables and stayed beside the lady. “ Do you mind if I join you? ” he queried with a smile, although she couldn’t see it, she could tell that he was smiling – there was something about losing a sense that enhanced the rest, and made things as such, plausible. “ After all, I’m paying for your spilt coffee and whatever pastries you want to accompany it with. I need to atone for my mishap ”

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