Chapter 7

(Madge POV)

I can't believe he wants to still take me to the library right now. I love that he does but I just can't believe it. He was so upset and then I'd been upset too. Both of us, a total wreck and then somehow, some way, he manages to turn the mood completely around and still take me on this date. Well, date may be too strong a word for it. It may just be us hanging out. But maybe it's more. Maybe it really does qualify as a date. I have no idea. But I do know that I'm excited about it.

Earlier, he'd held me as I'd cried, overwhelmed with the confusion of my own feelings. And any other time I would've thought it uncomfortable to have him do something so, so intimate but tonight, when he did that, it felt just right. As if that was exactly what I needed to soothe me. And then, afterwards, he'd let go of me to wipe away tears from my cheeks and I found myself wishing he hadn't let go. I missed the feel of his hand against mine. Part of me wanted to be brave and reach out, taking his hand back in my own again but I didn't. Not enough courage for that I'm afraid.

It's quiet as we make our way to the library. It's late the halls are empty. And Gale and I aren't talking as we walk. It isn't awkward silence though. More comfortable than in previous times.

"Alright, this is it. Wanna close your eyes and be surprised when I open the door?" He asks as we stop in front of a door.

"Okay!" I say excitedly. I like that he's trying to make this even more fun than it already is. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, smiling and then biting my bottom lip to try and hold in my smile. I hear the passes being swiped over the scanner above the keypad and then listen as the door slides open. Do I walk in? Do I open my eyes yet? Is he going to lead me? I'm just about to ask when I feel his hand gently take my elbow and guide me forward.

"Alright, open em." He nearly whispers.

And I do. "Oh wow…" I breathe out. I blink, trying to figure out what my eyes want to focus on first. There are shelves and shelves lining the room, from one wall all the way down to the other. And each shelf is filled with books. More books than I've ever seen in my entire life. More than I could possibly have imagined being in one place at one time.

"Pretty incredible, huh?" He asks with a half grin on his face.

I nod, still a little on the speechless side. I close my eyes and inhale deeply, breathing in the smell of all the books.

"What are you doing?" He asks me. I open my eyes and look at him.

"Smelling the books. It's a very distinct smell. Don't you smell it?"

"Yeah, guess I do actually now that you mention it."

"It's something I like to do. Breathe in certain smells. Sort of marks the memory. Like from now on, whenever I smell old books, I'll think of this moment and remember what it felt like. I'll always associate the two things from now on." I ramble in explanation.

He smiles and his eyes glisten with some sort of emotion but I'm not sure what. Happiness yes, but there's more, there's something else there too.

"Is that ridiculous? Do I sound crazy?" I ask, suddenly feeling nervous and bashful.

He shakes his head and smiles. "Not crazy. I suppose I sorta do that too. Like the woods. The smell of the trees and the dirt. It brings me memories if I take the time to stop and think about em."

"Do you miss it? Going into the woods?" I ask him, finding it easy to make conversation with him for once.

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't. I don't miss the hunting for food as much as I miss the open spaces and the freedom."

"I always wanted to go out there. Never told anybody that. I'd sit on my porch swing and try to imagine the fence wasn't there. Couldn't tell you how many hours I spent daydreaming about what lay beyond that fence." I tell him as I begin looking at the books on the shelves.

"Would it surprise you to learn that you've spent your fair share of time on the other side of that very fence?" He asks as he leans against one of the shelves I'm scrolling through.

I pause and look over at him. Me? Beyond the fence? "Really?"

He nods once. "Yep."

"Did I like it?"

"Yeah, you did. There was a lake I used to take you too. And sometimes we'd spend the night out there, like a vacation sort of."

"Really?" I say again. I'm sort of in awe at the thought of my being out there, where I wasn't supposed to be. I never broke rules like that. I wanted too, just never had the guts to do it. It's sort of hard even to imagine myself out there.

"Yeah. I'll tell you stories about it some time. For now though, you're supposed to be picking out a book. Our stories can wait." He says as he gestures at the room around us.

I'm a little surprised that he isn't jumping at the chance to tell me all about us. This holding back a little Gale that he's being just makes me more curious about him. About us.

"So, tell me then Gale Hawthorne, when did you start reading for fun? You never struck me as a book lover." I pry as I pull a book off the shelf and thumb through it.

"Book lover is probably a stretch of description. I only have a mild interest in books but sometimes, sometimes you find one that's not so bad. What about you? What makes you love to reading so much?"

"The escape that comes with reading about imaginary places and imaginary people."

"What's your all time, hands down favorite? Maybe they have it here."

"A fairytale from when I was a little girl. Rapunzel."

"A children's book? I think those are over here." He says and starts walking over to a shelf towards the back wall.

"How do you know that?" I ask as I follow him.

"Kid sized chairs." He says and points to two small wooden chairs with peeling red paint.

"Oh." I say, embarrassed at my obliviousness. Obviously, it's a children's section.

"Let's find that book, shall we?"

"I can't remember the author." I tell him as he kneels down and starts reading over the book titles on the lower shelf.

"Got it!" He exclaims as he pulls it out excitedly and holds it up for me to see.

I take it from him and stare down at it, memories of my childhood flooding through my mind. Memories of my mother lying next to me in bed and reading this story to me. It was so long ago, I was so very young when she did that.

"My mother used to read this to me before bed." I whisper, swallowing down a lump I feel forming in my throat.

"Read it to me?" He says.

"Right now?" I ask.

He shrugs. "Unless you don't want to."

I smile and shake my head. "No, I'll read it to you, if you want. It's kind of a girly story though." I warn him.

"So are we reading this thing or not?" He asks teasingly.

"Sure, let's sit. In chairs, more our size perhaps?" I say as I make my way over to a small bench, book in hand.

He follows and sits on the bench across from me.

"No, not there. Over here. This one has pictures." I say as I pat the bench next to me. And I'm being truthful, I'd want him to sit with me even if there weren't pictures in the book for him to see. Something about him keeps luring me in, making me want just a little bit more of him. But at the same time, it makes me nervous.

He takes a deep breath and takes a seat next to me. If I'm not mistaken, he seems nervous too. Surely I'm mistaken though. Why on earth would he be nervous? Isn't that my role?

(Gale POV)

I watch her as she pats the bench next to her and waves me over to sit next to her. Pictures in the books she tells me. Can't see them from over here. Nervousness fills me and it's so unexpected. Maybe it's my heart fearing being broken again. Maybe it's my hope that she's letting me in, allowing me to get to know her again, and vice versa. I shake it off and go over, taking a seat on the bench beside her.

And then I listen as she reads to me. This child's book, that means so much to her. It's late and we're both tired. Her voice begins to drift towards the end of the story and then fades away entirely. I take the book, not wanting it to slip from her hands. Her head falls gently to my shoulder. I freeze. Afraid to move a muscle. Afraid I'll ruin this moment. I just watch. I watch her sleep. Her blonde hair falling across her face and I want so badly to brush it back away from her face. Her gorgeous, peaceful face.

I wait until I'm barely able to keep my eyes open any longer and then I reach over and ever so lightly run my fingertips over her face. "Hey sleepyhead, storytime is over."

She snuggles closer, still mostly asleep. Murmurs something I can't understand. God, I'd give just about anything to wrap my arm around her and just hold her here like this all night. I practically ache to do it. But I can't not now. Not when she's just beginning to trust me again. Not when she's finally giving me a chance.

I gently nudge her and whisper to her once more. "Madge, c'mon, we gotta get you home to bed."

She hears me this time. Sits up looking startled and it strikes fear clear through me. Fear that she's about to pull away altogether again. Thankfully, it's only momentary.

"Sorry, didn't mean to fall asleep like that." She says getting to her feet and smoothing her hair and shirt with her hands. Her cheeks are flushed pink. She's embarrassed to have fallen asleep.

I laugh a little but only in the hopes that it'll ease her tension. "Why be sorry? It's late. Really late. And you're human. It's normal to fall asleep when it's this late. C'mon, let's get you home."

She relaxes a little and goes to put the book back on the shelf.

"No, keep it. You can borrow it for awhile." I stop her.

"Is that okay?"

"That's how libraries work. You borrow a book for awhile and then you bring it back and exchange it for another one. "

We walk back to her door and she hugs the book to her chest the entire time. I'm glad she likes it that much. Glad she was able to find something that feels like home. Outside her door, we linger for a minute, like always.

"Thank you for taking me to the library. I really liked it." She tells me as she looks up at me with those bluest of blue eyes of hers.

"Glad you found something special to you there." I tell her. God, I want to kiss her right now. And I could. We're standing so close to one another. And you can feel the energy building between us as we stand her, looking at one another, saying our goodnights.

"Me too." She practically whispers. Her eyes pleading for me to kiss her. Every bit of me pleading to do just that. But I don't. Not tonight. Not right now. Not this time.