Prompt: You're overdue on this book and I want it so I'm tracking u the fuck down

Posted: 11/7/2020

Book Thief

She was unhappy. No. Furious. No, furious wasn't right. Annoyed. Really, really annoyed. And even more annoyed that she was annoyed in one of the places she liked best in the world: the library. She didn't want to take it out on poor old Ms. Pince, the librarian who would do well to start wearing a "Don't Shoot the Messenger" sign whenever Lily appeared at the front desk of the library.

This was Lily's fourth trip in two weeks waiting on the latest book in her favorite detective series to be available. She was heartbroken to hear the only copy her small public library received was checked out immediately after the book was released. And that was a month ago, which meant the book was now two weeks overdue. It was a miracle the whole thing hadn't been spoiled for her already.

"This is an outrage," she told Ms. Pince for the fourth time. The older woman looked at her passively, her overly large eyes unblinking. "How long can this possibly go on before you notify the authorities?"

Ms. Pince sighed. "As I have told you, countless times, I will write down your mobile and ring you when the book is returned, Ms. Evans."

Lily ignored her. "If you'd just tell me who has it, I will do the collection for you. Really, I don't mind. Consider it my service to the library."

"As I have told you," Ms. Pince began again, "I cannot provide you that information."

"Why? Is it a sodding GDPR violation? I assure you, Ms. Pince, I will pay the fee should said Book Thief report you for divulging his or her identity."

This was a blatant lie. Despite Lily being adamant that her constant borrowing of books from the library was in support of the local community – which, of course, was true – there was also the small fact that she simply could not afford her own reading habits. She was the stereotypical broke university student. Her money had to be spent frugally, for things like rent, and food, and her half of the Netflix subscription.

Ms. Pince sighed again, but longer this time. And curiously, her eyes traveled pointedly to her right as she gave an infinitesimal nod. Lily's head turned quickly to follow Ms. Pince's gaze. There was no mistaking who she meant, however, considering there was only one person sitting among the four nearest tables that Ms. Pince directed her to. Lily looked triumphant.

"Now don't you go start a row in my library, Ms. Evans. Mind yourself."

Lily scoffed, her eyes still locked in on her target. "I am the human embodiment of the word reasonable, Ms. Pince. I will play it very cool."

She turned away, starting to walk toward the next section of the library at a brisk pace before she forced herself to slow down. She vaguely thought she heard another sigh come from the librarian but it was of no consequence to her.

As she drew closer, she saw her mark more clearly. He had a messy mop of black hair upon his head, which was bent as he looked between a textbook and his laptop. She guessed he was around her age, another university student studying. Studying instead of returning my book! She remained casual as she walked toward his table. She stopped in front of it, feigning interest in the large bookshelf that put her directly in his line of vision when he lifted his head up again.

The minutes inched by as she pulled book after book from the shelves, occasionally flipping through the pages but with no real interest. Once or twice she stopped herself from actually starting to read, knowing that would distract her from her mission.

"Are you actually going to pick one of those, or do you have a sort of weird kink that involves smelling them?" a voice asked from behind her. She froze. "Not to kink-shame of course. I find myself pretty excited by books on occasion."

She regained her faculties, slamming the book she was holding back onto its place on the shelf before turning to face him. She froze again. He was handsome. Of fucking course he was. Bright hazel eyes, glinting mischievously underneath rectangular glasses; he wore a wide smile on his face. A beautiful fucking Book Thief.

"Like my men, I am very selective about the books I take home."

His smile did not fade. "There's a joke there somewhere. Hm… let's see. You like your men like you like your books –"

"Exchangeable," she supplied dryly.

He laughed. And damn it if it wasn't a divine, intoxicating laugh. Ms. Pince shushed them from the front desk, and Book Thief shot her a wry smile and apologetic wave from where he sat.

"I actually came here for one book in particular. I'm distraught to find out that it has already been checked out."

"My condolences."

"Oh, but it gets worse you see. It's not just checked out, but overdue."

"The horror."

"Charming," she said, with a forced calmness. How could anyone expect her to be reasonable when faced with this?

He laughed again, but this lacked the true amusement of the first. "Sorry, I do empathize. I'm just a bit preoccupied with this essay. Which book is it you've got your heart set on?"

"The latest detective novel in the Shaw series. Patrick Shaw, maybe you've heard of him?"

He pursed his lips together in mock consideration before answering. "Nope, I don't think I have. Must be good if you are so distressed about it. Thanks for the recommendation." He turned his attention back to his laptop as he spoke, as if it was of no real consequence to him. When she didn't immediately respond he looked back up at her.

She was going to have an aneurism. Her face was on fire now, and by the way he was looking at her she could tell it was clashing horribly with her red hair as usual.

It was a gargantuan effort to level her voice. "Really? You haven't heard about it? Are you sure? You seemed so… well, never mind."

"Seemed so what?" he asked, taking the bait.

"Well…smart, I suppose. I mean, perhaps it's the glasses? After all, I hardly know you."

"Hang on. Let me see if I'm understanding this correctly. Because I haven't heard of this… Shaw character, I'm unintelligent? That is your threshold?"

He was beginning to look at her like she was crazy. Maybe she was. But at least she wasn't lying. Lying to a complete stranger in the library, likely to assuage his guilt at being a certified Book Thief.

She shrugged, as if it made no real difference to her what he thought. "Well it's three-fold really. First off, Patrick Shaw is an extremely well-known author. This whole detective series of his has hit the best sellers list. Secondly, I can understand that detective books may be… challenging or intimidating to someone without the wherewithal for deducing clues. I mean these aren't your standard who-dun-its of old."

Book Thief looked entirely unimpressed with her as she paused her explanation. "Even if that were true, which you can't possibly know because you met me all of ten minutes ago, those are hardly grounds for calling someone unintelligent."

She nodded, as if acquiescing to the logic behind his statement. "Perhaps. But then we get to the third issue… one I like to call the unreliable narrator."

His eyebrows shot up. "Now this sounds interesting."

"Not as interesting as you think. It's really just my way of saying: You. Are. A. Bloody. Liar." She bit out every word with relish. "Ms. Pince told me you checked out Shaw's latest book and have yet to return it. It was due two weeks ago, and you can't even be bothered to return it. Worse of all, you went as far as pretending to know nothing about Shaw or his series just to try to get away with your crime."

He stared at her, his mouth gaping. She knew at this point he found her certifiably mental – without a shadow of a doubt. But she didn't care. The stupid look on his face almost made it worth it.

Finally, he rose from his chair, holding his hands as though turning himself in for arrest. "If I admit I did check out the book, will that make you happy?"

She pretended to ponder this for a moment. "It's certainly a start. Not quite as happy as if you'd turn the book in so other people—"

"—you—"

"—could read it!"

"See that's the rub of it all."

"Pardon?"

His hand flew to his hair and he looked on sheepishly to her. "I can't return it, see. Because…er…" his voice faded so low that she could not hear his confession.

"Because what?"

"Because… I lost it."

Her mouth dropped open. "For shame! First a book thief! And then a—a book murderer."

He laughed, genuinely. He had finally made his way around the table and was standing near her. She nearly had to crane her neck to look at him, which successfully diminished the effect of the glare-and-hands-on-hips combo.

"Look, I've ordered replacements. They just haven't come in yet evidently." He nodded toward the front desk where Ms. Pince was still sending looks their way while sorting through books.

"Sorry, did you say replacements? As in the plural of replacement."

"Yes. I ordered six copies – one to replace the one I lost, and five to donate to the library."

Oh. "Well… that's… very, erm well then. Good job."

He laughed again, a smile appearing on his face. "They should be arriving any time now, according to the tracking number. Want to go grab some lunch while we wait?"

"What?"

"Lunch? I'm starved. There's an Italian place around the corner. Food is pretty good, but it will also waste some time before the books are delivered."

"You want to have lunch with me? After…book thief? And…"

"And book murderer? Yeah. I think you greatly underestimate how hungry I am." It was finally her turn to laugh. He brightened even further. "So that's a yes?" She found herself nodding. "Excellent. Just give me a moment."

She watched as he swiftly packed his textbook – careful to mark his page with a pristine bookmark – and laptop into his book bag, before he came back to her side. He gestured toward the door and they began walking side-by-side.

"So, you don't read much, I gather?" he deadpanned, stuffing his hands in his pocket.

She blushed furiously at this, but they both erupted into laughter. Ms. Pince shushed aggressively at them as they walked past her but that only made them laugh harder.