Hell is Empty, the demons are all here.
"A story?" She gulped.
"Yeah, a story. Most have one, like I've said."
"Well, I have one, it's just-"
"It's just too personal to share with someone you've barely met."
She nodded, bashfully looking down and playing with the hem of her dress. He leaned back in his chair, not of amusement, but disappointment.
He slowly nodded and looked about; the air around them became tense causing lumps to form in their throats.
"Right. So I'll see you later." Artemisia weakly grinned, turning on her heel, graciously leaving the aisle.
All that remained of the girl was her faint fruity scent and the visible glow that no longer showed.
Marigold witnessed it all.
The glint in his eyes when he talked to her older sister, his smirk widening when she would say something.
Marigold knew Chris liked her sister but Artemisia was so oblivious to it, she was so naive that it didn't make sense. How had she not noticed?
The boy stepped up, walking to the front desk. He rang the bell, maybe to sign his book out. He was quickly accompanied by the clerk, who then proceeded to walk him out of the library.
He never looked back, but Marigold could somehow feel his enchanted eyes on her. It was a soothing but staggering gaze.
She knew he was very strange, very transparent with his personality but he was mysterious at the same time, not villainous nor heroic—just strange.
'What a gentleman, I won't see him again. At least I hope.' Marigold thought.