Her perfume alerted him of her arrival. A heavy musk scent which usually lingered long after she left. She always arrived a half an hour before closing time, staying until it was time to lock up. She worked in media according to her security tag and casual image of jeans, pumps and baggy jumpers. Her strawberry hair swept loosely into a ponytail, with tendrils snaking down her neck.
“Hi, how’s your day been?" she always asked. Her mouth would stretch into a smile, as she awaited his answer, which was a nod and smile. Then she would throw down her rucksack beside a threadbare armchair under the stairs. It was his favourite time of the day.
He would busy himself just enough to allow him to watch her without arousing suspicion. The voice in his head would taunt and tease, “IF YOU WERE A REAL MAN, YOU WOULD ASK HER OUT- DOES SHE REALLY COME IN FOR THE BOOKS?” But he could never find the courage and with each turn of the key in the door, muttered frustration through his heavy sighs. Panic would creep across his brain, that he may never see her again. He wanted to tell her, that the only part of his day which meant anything to him, was that half an hour, when she sat reading in his battered arm chair. Sometimes she would cross her legs up underneath her, and he imagined they were at home together.
On a rainy Wednesday in September, after months of daily visits, she arrived flushed and anxious. Their usual familiar pattern was silenced. She hovered in the doorway as though she needed an invitation. He gently guided her in past the heaving shelves, crammed with antique books, inscribed to lost loves, or awards for church attendances. On reaching her chair, she lingered, as though afraid to sit down. Her hands rubbed together, and she chewed on her fingernail. His eyes sought hers- what was the matter? Concern rose from the pit of his stomach to the back of his throat.
She pushed him gently into the chair, dropped her bag to the floor and knelt in front of him. What was she doing? Slowly her hands began to move, and her face contorted with concentration. She strung words together wither her fingers. His wide eyes watched as she signed. “This place is my sanctuary. When everything around me is dark, what gets me through is my time here, with you.”
He lifted his hands and signed his reply. “Did you learn to do this for me?”
She nodded and her eyes held his gaze as he shuffled from the chair onto the floor, in front of her. He took her face in his hands, and kissed her, for the first time of forever.
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