m0thart. deviantart art/the-great-story-535536229
Really just something to help get through writer's block.
"Oh! Pull in here."
Teddy gave her a long look, but finally turned the wheel to the right to pull into the parking lot when she smiled at him. "There's nothing here, Vic," he said, putting the car in park, but she ignored him and hopped out of the car, slamming the door behind her. "Victoire, really," he huffed.
She made it to the door and pressed her face to the glass. Dozens of shelves could faintly be seen through her reflection, each one lined with books. "It's the middle of the night. What made you think they might be open?" Teddy demanded, sounding annoyed, but she turned to look at him and pulled on the door handle. It slid open with a small ring and while Teddy gaped at her, she let out a little laugh and dashed inside.
The lighting was dim, and appeared to be coming from the counter in the back. From the ceiling, small crystals and various papier-mâché figures hung on thin, delicate strings. Several of the shelves had holes in where books should be, but instead, beanie babies had taken their place. Victoire ran her fingers along the fragile bindings of the books, taking in the faded colors of the spines and the dusted titles.
"What are we doing here, Vic?" he questioned, voice soft as he rested his hand on the small of her back. She shook her head, a few strands of soft white-blonde hair falling from the confines of her bun.
"Feels like home," she muttered in return, pulling a thick tome from the shelf. She cracked it open and turned to her fiancé, grinning just before she blew the dust into his face. He reared back and coughed, much to her amusement.
"Thanks a lot," he sputtered, waving his hand in front of his face to clear away the dust particles. She smiled pleasantly in his direction before she returned the book to its proper place, the tome disappearing seamlessly into the long row of stories. She moved to leave, but Teddy rested his hand on her elbow. She turned her head around to look at him, a question on her lips. "Did you actually want something here?" he asked.
She considered. "Not really," she confessed, eyeing the bookshelves quietly. "It's," she pulled out her phone and checked the time, eyes widening, "1:58am." Teddy snorted. "We should probably head home, anyway."
Teddy rolled his eyes and turned around, heading toward the door. "No shit, Sherlock," he said, linking his fingers with Victoire's when their hands brushed together.