Disclaimer: They don't belong to me. Obviously.
Warning: major OOC
A/N: Hello. So I'm taking a break from my other story, Savior, because I have this silly one-shot plot bunny begging to be written. This is an AU story, something that I never tried before so please expect stupidity and inconsistency in the writing. I still hope that it is readable *crosses fingers* and that you don't feel like killing me after you read it.
This is an un-betaed work (and English is so not my first or second language) so there will be a lot of grammatical mistakes in it. If the mistakes are too glaring, please be kindly to mention them to me so that I can get them fixed.
Have a good read :)
"Do you believe in love at first sight?"
Cara Mason nearly choked on her coffee at the out-of-nowhere question. She swallowed the hot liquid in her mouth, burning her mouth and throat in the process. The tall blonde had been enjoying quite a slow morning in her bookshop doing inventory before her step sister ruined it with that stupid question. "Where did that come from?" she asked in annoyance, glaring at her intruder. "Have you been reading trashy novels again?"
"Trashy?" the younger woman gasped, blue eyes widened as big as a saucer. "That is blasphemy! Barbara Cartland is a goddess!"
The blonde scoffed, "There is no such thing as love at first sight. Heck, there isn't even such thing as love at all!"
"You are hopelessly cynical."
"And you," Cara replied promptly, tweaking her little sister's nose as she spoke, "are a romantic fool. Honestly, Berdine Mason, I thought now that you're in college you'd have some sense in you. Needless to say that I was wrong."
The younger woman swatted Cara's arm affectionately and grinned when a hearty laugh emanated from her sister's mouth. It was never easy to make Cara laugh so Berdine always found it accomplishing to be able to make the older woman laugh.
Berdine had always been fond of her sister since as long as she could remember. She used to want to have Cara's honey-coloured hair and her pasture-green eyes instead of her own brunette locks and blue eyes. She remembered dyeing her hair blonde in secondary school, only to have her mother drag her to a hairdresser to 'fix the mess' as soon as the late woman found out about it. For some reason Berdine couldn't fathom her mother had never liked Cara and she had had no problem showing her dislike to her stepdaughter, saying that Cara was a bad influence and stuff.
Of course Berdine didn't listen. Four years her senior, Cara had always been more than Berdine's role model – she was her hero and protector. Berdine couldn't recall the time when the blonde hadn't been there for her to support her – Cara had been the one who smacked that annoying Tim Salinger in third grade when he pulled Berdine's hair, the only one she confided in when she fell in love, the only one who knew all her secrets, the one who taught her foreign languages and actually helped her win the French competition by her relentless drills, the one who brought her to senior parties and proudly introduced her as Cara's little sister, and one and for all, Cara was the one who decided to drop out from college and run the family bookshop to pay for Berdine's tuition after their parents died in a car crash.
"I still can't believe you don't believe in love," the brunette said. She picked up a book from the counter and handed it to Cara to mark. "I mean, Don Juan's conquers are pallid compared to yours."
"Are you calling me a slut?" Cara asked in a disbelieved tone.
"What I meant to say is, Cara, you've been in more relationships to last someone a lifetime. If it isn't love, what would you call it?"
"Lust. Simple and easy," the blonde replied calmly, "Love is nonsense. Lust at first sight, now, that I understand." She put down the book Berdine had handed her back on the counter and reached for her coffee, raising the mug to her lips.
"Even with Dahlia? It's only lust?" Berdine pressed. When she was met with silence, she glanced at Cara. Immediately she wished that she had kept her big mouth shut.
The older woman stilled; the hand that was holding the mug stopped midair. Very slowly she put it back on the counter next to the piles of books and turned to see face to face with her sister, all the while giving the shorter woman an icy stare.
Berdine swallowed an invisible lump in her throat and bit her lower lip anxiously. From a very young age she had learned that when Cara gave someone that look, it meant trouble. The brunette was used to getting silent treatment before the usual slap-to-the-wrist speech from Cara when she did something wrong. But Cara only gave her the look when she did something really bad.
"That was out of line, Berdine," Cara stated coldly. She picked up some books from the counter and left to the rows of shelves at the back of the shop. From the corner of her left eye she could see the younger woman meekly following her from behind but Cara ignored her. She was pissed.
How Berdine wanted to cry! It had been years since the last time Cara had been really angry with her and she had vowed to herself never to cross the line ever again with Cara. She blinked back the tears, knowing perfectly that crying would only irk her big sister more. "Cara, I'm so sor– .."
"Don't you have a class to attend or something?" the blonde cut her off without looking at her, hinting not so subtly that she wanted to be left alone.
Apology would mean nothing now and would not be received well; Berdine was aware of it. Her face fell and she nodded dejectedly. Before she left, though, she tugged on Cara's sleeve and kissed her sister on the cheek.
Cara sighed audibly when she heard the slamming of the front door, leaving her alone in the shop. She sank to the floor and rested her head on one of the shelves. Her head began to pound and Cara cursed silently.
Why did Berdine have to bring up that name? Cara rubbed her brow hard, trying to rid of the pain that started to accumulate there. Why did the clumsy child have to remind her about that woman just as life started to feel easier? Dahlia. The mention of the name had opened a huge dam of bad memories and now everything came flooding in Cara's head. "Oh I'm so going to kill that kid!" Cara growled. Today's so gonna suck, she thought.
"Hello?"
Cara's head whipped upwards when she heard a voice from the front area of the shop. She stood up and brushed the dust off her jeans. "Be right there," she called back, hurriedly shoving the books she was holding to their respective shelves before going to the counter. "Can I help you, ma'am?"
The visitor, her back to Cara, was reading the back of a best-seller book. Upon hearing Cara's voice, she put the book back on its place and turned around, smiling shyly at her.
For a split second, Cara was stunned. The woman visitor was extraordinarily beautiful – she had a pair of brilliant blue eyes that was like the summer sky, bow-shaped full lips, and long dark hair that reached the middle of her back.
"Hi," the woman greeted her in a rich voice that gave butterflies in Cara's stomach.
The blonde blinked. "Uh.. hello," she greeted back feebly. She smacked herself mentally. "Hello," she repeated with an evener tone, "Can I help you with anything?"
"Yes, please. I'm looking for some books for children. Do you have any?"
Cara glanced quickly at the woman's hand. She saw a glimmer of a ring and her heart fell. Her smile faltered for a moment before she regained her composure back. "Yes, plenty of them. What kind of stories are you looking for?"
If the raven haired woman noticed the change in Cara's demeanour, she didn't show it. She kept her smile and shrugged. "I don't know, actually. Any suggestions?"
"Well, I have some adventure stories, fairy tales, detective stories, science-fictions, non-fictions, and some other genres. How old is your child?"
The woman chuckled nervously and shook her head. "Oh, no. I don't have any– .. I mean, the books are for my friend's daughter. She's turning ten today."
It was odd that Cara felt slightly relieved to know that the woman didn't have any children. Doesn't mean anything, really. Get a grip, Mason! Cara reprimanded herself. "What is she like? It's easier to find a suitable book if I know what she likes," she asked, elaborating as she saw a small frown on the other woman's forehead at her question about the child.
"Johanna is shy and quiet. She doesn't play with a lot of other children but she does like reading books. She has this big shelf full of her own books! Oh, and she likes drawing nature and animals."
Cara nodded, taking all the information in her head. Her brain worked fast, sorting through all book genres and titles to find just the perfect book. "I think I may have something that she may like. Please sit down, I'm going to grab some books for you to choose," Cara said, offering the woman a high stool before leaving for the 'Children' section.
"Oh, thank you. Sorry for the trouble," the woman said.
"No biggies," she called back without looking.
It didn't take Cara more than a minute to locate the books she was looking for – after all, she arranged every one of them herself. She didn't return immediately, though. Instead, Cara stood in between two shelves with books in her arms, biting her lower lip to stop herself from grinning like an idiot. Stop grinning! She chastised herself. Stop. Grinning! You have no reason to!
Eventually, after telling herself that the woman was a complete stranger – a married stranger, to make things worse – Cara was able to stop grinning. She cleared her throat and returned to the counter. "Here we go," she said, showing the books she picked.
The woman's eyes widened when she saw the number of books Cara brought back. "Oh, I wasn't...," she exclaimed then stopped, blushing furiously.
Cara knew the expression perfectly; it was an expression people gave her whenever they asked for recommendation and Cara pointed them to more than five books. She smiled. "I know," she assured the woman, "I know you didn't mean to buy all these. They are just the books I think suitable for your Johanna; you probably want to pick one."
Cara was responded to with a nervous chuckle. "Yeah, I should have thought that. How silly of me," the blue-eyed beauty said, clearly embarrassed. She picked a book. "The Diving Bell? I've never heard about this one," she mumbled, reading the title.
"That one is about a little girl who tried to save her brothers who were taken by the Spaniards because they were divers and the Spaniards wanted them to dive for their treasure. It was a good read, but probably too heavy for a ten-year-old unless she was a big reader," Cara informed. She never liked talking but when it came to books, nothing could stop her.
The woman nodded and put the sapphire-coloured book down. She picked up another. "Charlotte's Web! I love this! But I think she has read it – it's pretty popular since the movie, you know." She picked another book, read the back part, shook her head and put it back down. She did the same for the next three books.
When she picked the last book and read the synopsis on the back cover, Cara's heart was beating fast. She had kept quiet after the first book, taking her time to admire the feature of the woman before her. Beautiful, she appraised silently. She tried to find another adjective to describe the woman but she came back to the same word: beautiful. Now her heart was beating faster because she was afraid that the woman didn't find the book she liked. What if she thought Cara was incompetent and then left without buying anything? Well, that was one problem, but what if the woman spread the word about her being incompetent bookshop owner and people stopped coming to her shop? What if...
"I think I'm going to take this one," the woman interrupted Cara's train of thought.
Again, for the second time, Cara had to blink to bring herself back to earth. "Sorry?"
The woman smiled broadly. "This one: Little House in the Big Woods? I'm going to take this," she reiterated softly. Were she to find it annoying to have to repeat her words, she didn't show it.
"Ah, great choice," Cara agreed. She took the book from the woman's hand – their fingers accidentally brushed – and there was an invisible spark electrocuting Cara from where their skins had touched. She pulled her hand away in an instant and the book dropped to the floor. "Sorry!" she murmured as she picked it up, "Clumsy me."
"It's okay," the woman replied awkwardly.
Cara thought the woman was a little breathless when she said that, but it might be because of her brain's malfunction. She quickly checked the book out, carefully peeled off the price tag and wrapped it with brown paper. "Thanks," she said as the woman handed her the money. That the money was put on the counter instead of being handed to her properly didn't go unnoticed by Cara.
"Thank you for helping me out," the woman thanked back.
"My pleasure," Cara replied obligingly, "I hope she likes the book."
"I'll let you know," she promised, walking to the door as she spoke. She reached for the door handle and opened the door. To Cara's surprise, the woman didn't immediately leave. She just stood there at the doorway and turned around. "I'm Kahlan, by the way," she said introducing herself out of the blue.
Cara was too astonished to respond at first. When she opened her mouth to reply, the dark-haired woman had turned her back around and left.
"Kahlan," Cara said the name slowly, rolling it in her tongue as if tasting it. The sides of her mouth began to twitch a little before turning into a full grown grin.
Maybe today was not that bad after all.
A/N: The books mentioned in this story are books that I read and enjoyed as a kid. The Diving Bell was written by Todd Strasser; Charlotte's Web was by E.B. White, and the Little House series were all written by Laura Ingals Wilder.
If you haven't read them, please do, especially the Little House series. I LOVE them!
Anyway, thanks a lot for reading. *offers brownies in case the story traumatised the readers*