Status: Active
I'm Still Searching
One.
It was the same every day. I got up, showered, ate breakfast, fed my dogs, went to work, came home, ate dinner, and went to bed.
Nothing interesting ever happened in my life. Today was proving to be no different. I had been at work for nearly 8 hours today, and I was so incredibly tired of being on my feet. You may not think working at a book store is difficult, but sometimes it could be. Especially when it was delivery day, and I had to be I up and down a ladder all day, putting books where they belonged. It'll tire you out real quickly. It was about ten minutes to close, and I heard the bell on the door ring, singnaling me that someone had come inside. I looked towards the door, seeing a vaguely familiar gentleman walk inside. He had short brown hair that was neatly combed, a nicely trimmed beard and piercing blue eyes.
I smiled as I approached him. "Hello. Is there anything I can help you find?" He smiled at me, seeming almost surprised, "Ah, yes. There was something I was looking for, but I see that you do close soon, and I don't want to be rude." His Scottish accent made my insides flutter. I chuckled softly, "Well, I appreciate that. Most people don't care whether or not they keep me here past closing time." He bit his lip, staring at me as if he was trying to figure something out. "I'm James." He stuck out his hand to me, and I placed mine in it gently. "Penelope." I replied, taking note of how incredibly warm his hand was. He held onto my hand for a few moments before finally letting go, and my hand felt noticeably colder without his wrapped around it. He didn't say anything for a few moments, and then chuckled to himself, scratching the back of his head. "Well, I guess I'll leave you to it, miss." He said, heading towards the door. "Have a lovely evening, James!" I called to him, and he looked at me over his shoulder as he pushed the door open, smiling brightly.
I went about closing the store, counting all the money, putting it in the safe and making sure all the lights were off. I was walking out and locking the door, when I felt a presence behind me. I turned around slowly, coming face to face with a man wearing a ski mask. "Give me your bag." He demanded, holding out his hand to me. I shook my head, noticing that he didn't have a weapon. I could take him, right? I held my bag tightly to my side, "Kindly fuck off." I hissed at him, starting to walk towards my car. The next thing I knew, I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head, and I fell to the ground on my knees. He had hit me with a pipe of some sort. "What the fuck?" I cried out, my hand flying up to the back of my head as tears stung my eyes. I turned to look at him over my shoulder, and his hand collided with my face, leaving the taste of blood in my mouth. I still held on to my bag tightly. "Hey! What's going on?" I heard someone yell from the bar across the street. The guy that had hit me got spooked, running off quickly. I heard footsteps approaching me, and I tried to stand up, but had no luck. "Hey, don't move. I'll help you." I nodded slowly, instantly regretting it. The person put their arms around my waist, helping me stand up slowly. "I work at the bar across the street. Let's take you over there and have a look at your head, okay?" "Y-yeah, sure." I replied, holding onto them tightly.
He led me across the street and into the bar, which wasn't very crowded thankfully. I noticed two or three small groups of men sitting at tables together when we entered. The man who had helped me led me to the bar, telling me to sit down before he disappeared into the office, looking for a first aid kit. "What happened?" The female bartender asked, looking horrified. "I think someone just tried to mug me." I told her honestly, pressing my fingertips to the back of my head, before bringing them back up to my face, seeing blood on them. "Your head is bleeding." She whispered, turning as white as a ghost. "Yeah.. That's probably bad, isn't it?" I could feel my stomach getting queasy. A customer came over to the bar, wanting to place an order for drinks, and took the bartenders attention off of me for a moment. I looked around slowly, my eyes immediately landing on the gentleman who I had met in the store earlier. James, was it? I still couldn't get over the fact that he looked familiar to me.. Where did I know him from? His eyes met mine for a second, and he did a double take, immediately standing up from his table and rushing over to me. "Are you okay? Who did this to you?" He grabbed a handful of napkins from the bar, holding them to my lip. That must've been bleeding, too. "I forgot to catch his name. I was too busy trying not to get mugged." I replied dryly, wincing as he dabbed at my lip. He huffed, looking at me sternly. "Did you see his face?" I shook my head, "He was wearing a mask. Who fucking does that anymore?" He chuckled at me, continuing to pat my face with the napkin. "Youve got quite the mouth on you, don't you?" I blushed lightly, reminding myself that I was probably coming off as rude. "Sorry." I mumbled quietly. He shook his head, biting his lip to keep himself from smiling more. "Don't think I was complaining."
James sat with me until the guy came back with a first aid kit. He pulled out a couple alcohol wipes and some gauze and began cleaning the back of my head. "Christ." I hissed, which made James chuckle again. I looked at him in disbelief, "This isn't funny, you ass." He just laughed harder, "Do you always swear at strangers?" I bit my lip, shaking my head at him. "Well, it doesn't look like you need stitches." The other guy said to me, and I let out a sigh of relief. "Tis only a flesh wound." I whispered to myself, and James lost himself in a howling fit of laughter. "Stop laughing at me!" I exclaimed, unable to stop myself from laughing along with him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You're just funny is all." He stopped laughing, leaning on his hand and stared at me while he bit his lip. Another man approached us, his dark hair was neatly combed like James', and he also had a little bit of stubble on his jaw. He placed his hand on James' shoulder, a concerned look covering his features as he looked at me. "James, are you making fun of this poor girl?" He also had an accent, but it wasn't quite as swoon-worthy as James'. James shook his head, still staring at me, "No, she's quite hilarious, actually." His friend squinted at me for a moment, before holding his hand out to me. "I'm Michael, but you probably knew that already." I chuckled, putting my hand in his. "Why would I know that, I just met you?" I asked him, and James began to laugh again. "She doesn't know." He said to Michael, who also began to chuckle. I looked at them both, confused. "What are you talking about? Is this some sort of inside joke?" Michael shook his head, "Have you ever seen X-Men?" He asked me, and I thought for a moment, before it clicked. "Fuck." I whispered to myself, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks.
Nothing interesting ever happened in my life. Today was proving to be no different. I had been at work for nearly 8 hours today, and I was so incredibly tired of being on my feet. You may not think working at a book store is difficult, but sometimes it could be. Especially when it was delivery day, and I had to be I up and down a ladder all day, putting books where they belonged. It'll tire you out real quickly. It was about ten minutes to close, and I heard the bell on the door ring, singnaling me that someone had come inside. I looked towards the door, seeing a vaguely familiar gentleman walk inside. He had short brown hair that was neatly combed, a nicely trimmed beard and piercing blue eyes.
I smiled as I approached him. "Hello. Is there anything I can help you find?" He smiled at me, seeming almost surprised, "Ah, yes. There was something I was looking for, but I see that you do close soon, and I don't want to be rude." His Scottish accent made my insides flutter. I chuckled softly, "Well, I appreciate that. Most people don't care whether or not they keep me here past closing time." He bit his lip, staring at me as if he was trying to figure something out. "I'm James." He stuck out his hand to me, and I placed mine in it gently. "Penelope." I replied, taking note of how incredibly warm his hand was. He held onto my hand for a few moments before finally letting go, and my hand felt noticeably colder without his wrapped around it. He didn't say anything for a few moments, and then chuckled to himself, scratching the back of his head. "Well, I guess I'll leave you to it, miss." He said, heading towards the door. "Have a lovely evening, James!" I called to him, and he looked at me over his shoulder as he pushed the door open, smiling brightly.
I went about closing the store, counting all the money, putting it in the safe and making sure all the lights were off. I was walking out and locking the door, when I felt a presence behind me. I turned around slowly, coming face to face with a man wearing a ski mask. "Give me your bag." He demanded, holding out his hand to me. I shook my head, noticing that he didn't have a weapon. I could take him, right? I held my bag tightly to my side, "Kindly fuck off." I hissed at him, starting to walk towards my car. The next thing I knew, I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head, and I fell to the ground on my knees. He had hit me with a pipe of some sort. "What the fuck?" I cried out, my hand flying up to the back of my head as tears stung my eyes. I turned to look at him over my shoulder, and his hand collided with my face, leaving the taste of blood in my mouth. I still held on to my bag tightly. "Hey! What's going on?" I heard someone yell from the bar across the street. The guy that had hit me got spooked, running off quickly. I heard footsteps approaching me, and I tried to stand up, but had no luck. "Hey, don't move. I'll help you." I nodded slowly, instantly regretting it. The person put their arms around my waist, helping me stand up slowly. "I work at the bar across the street. Let's take you over there and have a look at your head, okay?" "Y-yeah, sure." I replied, holding onto them tightly.
He led me across the street and into the bar, which wasn't very crowded thankfully. I noticed two or three small groups of men sitting at tables together when we entered. The man who had helped me led me to the bar, telling me to sit down before he disappeared into the office, looking for a first aid kit. "What happened?" The female bartender asked, looking horrified. "I think someone just tried to mug me." I told her honestly, pressing my fingertips to the back of my head, before bringing them back up to my face, seeing blood on them. "Your head is bleeding." She whispered, turning as white as a ghost. "Yeah.. That's probably bad, isn't it?" I could feel my stomach getting queasy. A customer came over to the bar, wanting to place an order for drinks, and took the bartenders attention off of me for a moment. I looked around slowly, my eyes immediately landing on the gentleman who I had met in the store earlier. James, was it? I still couldn't get over the fact that he looked familiar to me.. Where did I know him from? His eyes met mine for a second, and he did a double take, immediately standing up from his table and rushing over to me. "Are you okay? Who did this to you?" He grabbed a handful of napkins from the bar, holding them to my lip. That must've been bleeding, too. "I forgot to catch his name. I was too busy trying not to get mugged." I replied dryly, wincing as he dabbed at my lip. He huffed, looking at me sternly. "Did you see his face?" I shook my head, "He was wearing a mask. Who fucking does that anymore?" He chuckled at me, continuing to pat my face with the napkin. "Youve got quite the mouth on you, don't you?" I blushed lightly, reminding myself that I was probably coming off as rude. "Sorry." I mumbled quietly. He shook his head, biting his lip to keep himself from smiling more. "Don't think I was complaining."
James sat with me until the guy came back with a first aid kit. He pulled out a couple alcohol wipes and some gauze and began cleaning the back of my head. "Christ." I hissed, which made James chuckle again. I looked at him in disbelief, "This isn't funny, you ass." He just laughed harder, "Do you always swear at strangers?" I bit my lip, shaking my head at him. "Well, it doesn't look like you need stitches." The other guy said to me, and I let out a sigh of relief. "Tis only a flesh wound." I whispered to myself, and James lost himself in a howling fit of laughter. "Stop laughing at me!" I exclaimed, unable to stop myself from laughing along with him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You're just funny is all." He stopped laughing, leaning on his hand and stared at me while he bit his lip. Another man approached us, his dark hair was neatly combed like James', and he also had a little bit of stubble on his jaw. He placed his hand on James' shoulder, a concerned look covering his features as he looked at me. "James, are you making fun of this poor girl?" He also had an accent, but it wasn't quite as swoon-worthy as James'. James shook his head, still staring at me, "No, she's quite hilarious, actually." His friend squinted at me for a moment, before holding his hand out to me. "I'm Michael, but you probably knew that already." I chuckled, putting my hand in his. "Why would I know that, I just met you?" I asked him, and James began to laugh again. "She doesn't know." He said to Michael, who also began to chuckle. I looked at them both, confused. "What are you talking about? Is this some sort of inside joke?" Michael shook his head, "Have you ever seen X-Men?" He asked me, and I thought for a moment, before it clicked. "Fuck." I whispered to myself, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks.