Person A is a heavy reader. Person B isn’t. Person A usually reads the stories to Person B when they need to calm down, from what it is, Person A never asks. Person B often falls asleep to the stories from Person A’s mouth, and can never stay up long enough to finish the stories, so all they know is the (mostly) happy beginnings, and never the ends.
Person A gives Person B their favourite book, one that’s been with them for a long time. The book has obvious signs of the love and importance it had on Person A’s life, but they know that it’s Person B’s favourite story.
You see, Person B might not notice, but Person A always keep a check of how long it takes for Person B to fall asleep when they’re reading a book. Sometimes it’s within the 3rd chapter, other times it’s on the 23rd. But when Person A reads this book to Person B, they notice how Person B struggles to stay awake, and is always concentrating so hard on not giving in to the slumber. Person A once asked Person B if they wanted to start from the middle of the book this time (because god forbid they say, ‘Where we left off’ because that means they’ll know when they fell asleep and that’s a conversation for a later (or never) time) but Person B always politely declines and says with the sweetest voices, “No, I want to hear your voice as much as possible.”
Person B shakily accepts the gift, and promises to give it back, but Person A declines and says, “No, you can have it. It’s yours. I know how much you love it, almost as much as I do. So here, read it, you fall asleep before the ending anyway.” And laughs it off, albeit awkwardly.
A few days pass since the gift giving, and Person B has had minimal contact with Person A. Then one day, as Person A was in the quiet corner of the library, back hunched over a book and nail biting in progress, Person B comes in and sits in front of Person A.
//“The ending haD ME SHOOK AF BRUH OAGJBAWLJRBGLKJBLEWRKJGB”//
“I understand why this book is your favourite, and I don’t want to copy you but it’s now my favourite too.” Person B says quietly as they watch Person A’s eyes scan 20 words a second. Person A nods slightly. “So I have a gift for you too.”
Person A looks up from the book and stares at a copy of the same book, looking newer and less worn, but still holding the words that made them laugh, cry, and die in a matter of 2 pages. Person B smiles, and says, “It’s my copy, I bought it the day before you gave me yours. I only read the first part, because it’s all I knew in your voice. So I could never bring myself to read the rest.” Person B laughs awkwardly.
“I mean, I don’t usually read books. But when you read them I suddenly picture myself there, in those pages, except it doesn’t feel like just pages, it feels real. My voice can’t do that, but yours can. So… When you gave me the book you had read to me over and over again, suddenly I could picture you, holding the book exactly the same way you are now, eyes scanning over the words so quickly that your voice fails to catch up, and the small hint of a smile in your voice and the sparkle in your eyes, and, believe me, I didn’t understand why people fell in love with reading but I think I’m in love with your reading. Whether it’s silent scanning of words, or quiet whispers of every second word, or when you voice the characters’ dialogue yourself to get the emotion right in your head because you haven’t heard the words said like that before, or when your reading it to me, I’m in love with you and your reading.”
Person B is blushing furiously and Person A is //dyING AF BECAUSE ERMAGHWRHGDHGAHGRHGA// still waiting, listening, knowing that this isn’t the end of what Person B wants to say.
“You’re the person people in books fall in love with,” Person B says with a quiet voice.
(Note from author: Hi, this is me coming back after ‘leaving’ this account. I actually never left and I knew a lot of people started following me AFTER i said I wouldn’t be back, so thank you! Also the words in between the // are just my mind going weird and wanting to add in something really stupid haha, love ya’ll.)
“This Scarlet…you’re in love with her, aren’t you?” He froze, becoming stone still. As the hover climbed the hill to the palace, his shoulders sank, and he returned his gaze to the window. “She’s my alpha,” he murmured, with a haunting sadness in his voice. Alpha. Cress leaned forward, propping her elbows on her knees. “Like the star?” “What star?” She stiffened, instantly embarrassed, and scooted back from him again. “Oh. Um. In a constellation, the brightest star is called the alpha. I thought maybe you meant that she’s…like…your brightest star.” Looking away, she knotted her hands in her lap, aware that she was blushing furiously now and this beast of a man was about to realize what an over-romantic sap she was. But instead of sneering or laughing, Wolf sighed. “Yes,” he said, his gaze climbing up to the full moon that had emerged over the city. “Exactly like that.”