Deep in the back of Smith and Sons Books, a beam of light from a dusty window sliced through the dimness. It was speckled with motes of dust, all of them as still as though transfixed in the amber light. The scene that was illuminated seemed more like a still life than an image of commerce.

Tall dark bookcases loomed in the gloom, their shelves sagging under the weight of years and books. Ladders climbed the bookcases, their brass fittings dull. Gold leaf twinkled through dust, the only bright points on the spines of innumerable books as the richly dyed leather slowly faded.

In the canyon of shelves, the only movement came from a small figure crowned with blue hair. She sat on a stepstool, an island in an atoll of stacked volumes, her head bent over a book. Around her the motes of dust drifted on the faint currents of air caused by her soft muttering and the occasional turn of a page. There was no telling how long she had been sitting there, but it must have been a while since the ray of light from the window had moved with the sun until she was almost out of its warm circle.

There was a disturbance in the motes as she straightened up. Levy's eyes were still unfocused, staring at some distant scene in her memory.

It was the wrong book.

Earlier that day she had been sitting across from Gajeel in the guild common room, dividing her attention between the dragonslayer across from her and the book in front of her. To be honest the man was getting more attention than the book, and he wasn't even doing anything; just sitting with a beer in one hand and his chin in the other, chatting with Lily.

There was something about the scene that was nagging at her memory. Something about the light, or the sounds in the room. She ruffled the pages of the book and smelled the distinctive sweet scent of old book and dust blending with the smell of beer and Mira's special wood polish. What was it?

Levy glanced up at Gajeel at the same moment his eyes drifted in her direction. She sat transfixed for the space of two rapid heartbeats. The corner of Gajeel's mouth turned up the tiniest bit as he broke the eye contact and Levy was swamped by an ill-defined memory all over again. Something about a book… She had to find it.

Ignoring the expressions and questions of the others in the guild hall, especially Gajeel, Levy shoved the bench back and dashed out the door without a word.

That had been hours ago, and she had spent the entire rest of the day in Smith and Sons decimating their shelves looking for the book. She had been certain she had seen it before, but with a reading habit like Levy's a lot of books had passed before her eyes. If only she could remember what it had been about, and what it was about Gajeel that reminded her of it.

She set aside the book she had been holding and propped her chin in her hands, elbows on her knees. Instead of the book, she focused her thoughts on Gajeel.

Just like that she felt a faint heat climb her cheeks.* She tried to reorganize her brain so she could try to suss out the reason Gajeel reminded her of a certain book. But she couldn't separate the feelings from the memory. They were all of a piece.

The way the light fell through his hair, glazing his olive skin, carving sharp contrast against his cheekbones. The slight angle of his smile, when had she learned to recognize the meaning in it? How long had it taken from quaking in nervousness at the sound of his voice to learning the difference between his playful shout and his roar of rage? When had she reached this point?

She sighed and buried her face in her hands, trying to smother the heat of her blush. It had hardly taken any time at all, had it? All the years of her life before, all the books and stories that had consumed her. The atmosphere of the books around her was like a warm blanket, comforting and enfolding. But they didn't hold the answer she was seeking, and without that answer somehow it was unsatisfying. But what could she do but keep searching?

Levy turned back to the stacks of books she had pulled off the shelves again. The answer felt so close. As she picked up the book she had just set down a noise nearby made her look up.

It was Gajeel. Levy felt the same punch of emotion she had felt earlier, but this time it made sense.

The ray of sunlight had drifted with the hands of the clock. As Gajeel moved down the aisle towards her he stepped into the golden light. He stopped and glanced around, as though he was looking for something. But Levy could tell. She knew what would happen next, and she knew the exact timing.

She rose to her feet, still holding the book she had picked up a moment ago. Gajeel's eyes drifted towards her as though drawn by the movement. He turned to face her and then, as she knew he would, his smiled just the tiniest bit with the very corners of his mouth.

Levy couldn't have stopped herself for the world and she wouldn't have wanted to. She smiled back at him, the open gentle expression she knew only he could draw out of her.

Gajeel turned away with a slight jerk of his head to head for the exit. Levy looked down wistfully at the book in her hands. This was the book she had been looking for, the one she knew had been waiting for her. She held it to her chest and hurried to the front to pay.

Gajeel was waiting for her, too.

The prompt I was writing for was "vellichor; the strange wistfulness of used bookstores, which are somehow infused with the passage of time." I think I ended up portraying deja vu a little more than vellichor. Oops... But I may attempt this prompt again sometime, so please look forward to that.

Shout-out to my hometown bookstore, Smith Family Books, which is quite possibly The Best Bookstore Ever. I invite you to do a google image search because it's something that really has to be seen to be believed. Those of you who know Smith Family (ayoooo!) let me know which section you think Levy is sitting in ;)

* As I was writing, this was the point at which "It Had To Be You" started playing. It was too perfect to not share.