Veni, Vidi, Vici

Marc had the memories, he still remembered, it wasn’t totally silent, contrary to popular beliefs. It was rather a serene orchestra of even breathes, inhale, exhale, slowly, quickly, roughly, softly and the constant turn of pages, crisp white pages, or delicate yellowing sheets rubbing lightly against the air. Marc could remember what the library looked like, the rows of books sitting solemnly the oak shelves, the red fading carpet and the beige wooden desks, yet nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of being there, the pure tranquility in the atmosphere, the magic, that brought forth a gut wrenching sense of nostalgia.

It use to be frequent, every Friday, or was it Thursday? He would come here after school and browse through the worlds on the shelves, there was a librarian, Diane, who would recommend him a book every time he came, and she called it the ‘book of the week’. He even remembered that he had a bit of a crush on her, and every time she laughed at his jokes, he would feel his cheek burn hot. But that was his old life.

Swallowing the unwanted emotions, Mar trudged on through the almost alien building, trying to focus on his goal – finding Grace. He ran his gaze over every table, every person with their face and minds obscured in a book, looking for that thin frame and dark blond hair. It was only until he passed the study room, did he spot Grace. He’d almost missed her, because she blended in so well with the rest of the people there, sitting quietly, hunched over a book. She seemed to be completely immersed in her reading. Marc could see print so small he swore it couldn’t be read by the naked eye on her page, and he inadvertently felt a sense of marvel and respect for the girl before him. She was smart, he knew that much from when they’d sat together in class, she had a quick memory and her multitasking abilities were enviable. Yet seeing her doing something that she obviously felt comfortable with, made his heart soften and lips turned up in a vague smile.

“Hey.” He said, just loudly enough for her to hear. She immediately looked up, strands of blond silk hair falling away from her face, revealing a pair of surprised wide eyes.

“Marc?” she replied, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“I saw you coming here yesterday, and the day before, so I just thought, ‘hey! I wonder if she’s here today!” you know and um... I guess you are!” he said with a nervous laugh. He’d contemplated doing the classic – ‘Oh! I didn’t know you be here, what a coincidence that we’d bump into each other!” kind of thing, but after running over all the possible outcomes, he’d decided the truth would probably be the best.

It was a good choice judging by the reaction he was receiving. Grace lowered her eyes, a faint smile fluttered across her face and a rosy blush spread through her cheeks; bringing forth a sense of accomplishment in Marc. He puffed up with regained confidence, pulled out the chair next to her and sat down, trying his best to look casual by stretching out his long body and yawning.

“The library’s pretty quiet, aye?” he murmured, looking intently at her face.

“Well, yes, I suppose it is. People need to concentrate in silence here.”

“I like it, it suites you.”

Grace looked slightly puzzled. “Thank you? I guess. Do you come here often?”

Marc smiled, a charming crooked lift at the corner of his lips that brought every muscle in Grace’s body into awareness.

“Do you want me to come here often?”

Grace laughed, it was an uncontrollable loud crack in the peaceful silence of the library. A middle aged woman with thick rimmed glasses glanced over with a glare, and turned back to her book, shaking her head in exaggerated shame.

That was probably the first time Marc had ever tried any of his notorious line on her and it was just so out of place, so different to anything she’d ever heard from him personally that she couldn’t help but find it humorous.

Marc smiled at her laughter yet couldn’t help but feel a little deflated at her response.

“Damn, I thought that was gonna work, it sounded pretty good in my head.”

“It was pretty good, and yes, it would be rather nice if you visited me again.” She replied with a laugh still etched on her face.

He grinned at her, feeling macho and manly once again with her response.

“So what are you reading?” he asked, trying to extend their conversation before she scuttled off.

“It’s nothing, just a random book I found on the shelf.” She said, closing the book and
turning in her chair so that they were face to face.

“I use to come here you know. Seriously, like every week and shit.”

“Hmm.... really, I can and can’t imagine that.” she said, a faint smile toying at her lips.

“I can re-enact it for you.” He challenged with a raised eyebrow.

Grace laughed quietly and gently shook her head. “I believe you Marc.”

“Well yeah, this really hot librarian uses to recommend books to me back in middle school.”

“Of course that’d be the only reason, you came here.” chided Grace lightly.

“Hey!” Marc exclaimed in defense, drawing the attention of the surrounding public. He looked around guiltily and continued in a much softer tone “That was NOT why I came, I actually borrowed the books you know. C’mon I’ll show you.”

Marc stood up and encased Grace’s hand with his own, encouraging her to stand with him. She sighed and rose out of her chair looking at him expectantly; he only smiled at, and led her forward- their hands entwined - through the desolate towering shelves. Grace laughed as she tried her best to match Marc’s long, fast strides, heading straight for the youth section. He stopped suddenly in front of a self just like any other, eyes bright with enthusiasm. He released her hand, the rough skin of his palm brushing across hers, leaving them feeling tingly and warm. She looked down biting her lip and awkwardly let her hand fall by her side, feeling rather strange at their carefree contact. Marc browsed through the books in front of him, running the tip of his finger over each spine until he stopped at a dark green leather bound one and quickly pulled it out.

“See, look!” He said opening the cover and pulling out a yellow piece of card with browning corners out of the pocket envelope.

Grace stepped closer to him until she was just inches away and peered closer at card that had obviously not been used for many decades and saw in the very last box was a row of neat printed letters that spelt out “Marc Winston”. She smiled and peered up at him. “I’m pretty sure people don’t even use those things anymore, but I believe you.”

Marc laughed, a quiet, musing chuckle that made the corner of his eyes crinkle, Grace’s expression instantly mirrored his.

“Damn right you should.” He murmured in a distracted voice.

His eyes roamed over her facial features, those opaque brown eyes and thick eyelashes, her pale soft skin that had a light sprinkle of freckles on her nose and forehead, but his eyes stopped at her lips, her soft, pale pink lips that looked ever so slightly dry, parted faintly and inhaling, exhaling, in low delicate whispers. She was so close, so close that he could even smell her – which probably made him a creep but right at that moment he didn’t really give a shit – it was an unusual fragrance of sunscreen and apple shampoo, light and barely there but familiar yet heady in a way that he couldn’t explain. It made him draw even closer, until he could feel her cool breath on his lips, it was an intimate, fragile exchange, each breath he drew out was taken in by her each breath from her body was taken into his. She was looking up at him now, lessening the gap between them, her eyes wide and hypnotizing drawing him into her spell.

Their lips met, their eyes closed. It was a soft touch, hesitant, but so certain, Grace’s heart squeezed tight and fluttered. His lips were soft, cool and they pressed against hers so lightly, so delicately, not daring to move in the sacred bond.

Marc knew that in that moment, he was having his first kiss.

His first real kiss.