Showering was the worst. Especially since I was faced with an obnoxious full length mirror every morning. The lighting didn't help to disguise any of the extra weight I'd managed to acquire over the last few weeks, either. Fuck.

Nothing was going right. I looked disgusting, my hair was a mess, I didn't have time for breakfast or a coffee, and I was already late. It didn't get any better when I left the house either; my car wouldn't fucking start because I'd forgotten to get gas the night before because I was a fucking idiot. I stormed my way to my office, glaring at my boss when he made his way over to me. I didn't want any of his shit today.

Once he was done belittling me, I just sat with my head in my hands, loathing everything. It hit lunch time and I bolted back out of the building. I didn't know where I was going to go – lord knows I didn't need anything to eat – so I just wandered down the street, trying to pass the time. Eventually I ended up standing outside of the bookshop.

There was no one around when I stepped in, and Carlisle immediately smiled at me. "Someone looks a little down today?" he asked as I closed the door behind me.

I smiled back nervously, my stomach twisting. "Um…kinda…" I crept over to the papers and carefully put one on the counter. Folding my arms helped to fight off the vulnerable feeling of being the centre of his attention. I didn't even want to know what he saw, because whatever it was, it can't have been good.

He glanced down at it briefly, and I imagined brushing his hair off his face as he looked up at me again. "I'm not sure that reading about all the shit that's going in the world is going to help you much," he teased, his fingers brushing lightly against mine as he handed my change back. It can't have been intentional, but it left my skin tingling.

I didn't know what to say, swallowing thickly and refusing eye contact. I knew that I was supposed to take the bag and leave now, but I didn't want to. I wanted to talk to him some more.

Thankfully, he took the hint. "You read a lot, don't you?" He didn't wait for me to answer before jumping out from behind the counter, already knowing from how much time I spent in this shop, no doubt.

I followed him a little numbly through the shop as he pointed out a few titles on the shelves, comparing them to the books I'd already brought or spent a while looking at – turns out this boy paid a whole lot more attention to me than I thought. I just liked being around him, really; seeing a friendly face after this morning was a relief. As we reached the end of the shelves, I realised I was going to have to go back to office. "…I need to go, Carlisle…" I told him quietly.

He just nodded, seeming a little disappointed. "Okay, but…since you know my name, do I get to know yours?"

"I'm Garrett…" I really, really didn't want to leave as I headed toward the front door, my heart sinking a little.

"Have a good day, Garrett," he called after me, jumping up to sit on the edge of the counter.

My face flushed as he said my name; I was totally screwed – I officially head over heels for a stranger.

The next few days passed in a blur, and every morning I found myself standing in front of the boy I wanted, buying a paper I didn't want. A few days a week, he didn't work. Which was logical, because who the fuck worked seven days a week in a damn bookstore. But that didn't calm me down any, and I hated those days. The other guy that served me was nowhere near as friendly, or as cute. I immediately didn't like him.

Needless to say, when Carlisle was back, I was over the moon.

"You know, maybe you should explain to me whatever is in that paper you find so interesting, because every time I buy one it's boring as shit," Carlisle told me as I put today's paper on the counter in front of him. He failed at hiding a smile, obviously teasing.

"...The beginning is always my favourite…" Not the story, as I hoped he would assume. Oh no; I just bought the damn thing every single fucking day so I could see him. Was this this flirting? I didn't know.

He looked down at the front page. "Women rolls car and hits school bus?" he asked, hiding a smirk.

My face flushed and I quickly looked away. "…Guess today wasn't so good."

"It's nice seeing you in the morning, anyway." He slid it into a bag, pushing it across the counter to me. He kept his eyes on the desk, but was smiling a little. His hair had fallen over his face and I longed to push it back.

I didn't know what to say, though. I opened and closed my mouth several times as I tried to conjure up a reply, but no words formed. "…Thanks for this…" I mumbled instead, gesturing to the bag as I took it from him, slowly backing toward the front door.

He jumped up to sit on the edge of the counter. "You look cute today, by the way. I like that shirt on you."

While I stood there open-mouthed and bright red, he continued on like it wasn't anything, wishing me well for the day as I stumbled out the door. I'd never been called 'cute' by anyone other than my mother, or my brother when he was teasing me, and this shirt was definitely not right.

So what the fuck was he taking?

His words had sent a wave of pleasure through my body though, and I was smiling at the pavement as I walked back to work. Nothing anyone said to me for the rest of the day seemed as bad, not when Carlisle thought I was 'cute'. Why a few words could make me so happy, I had no idea.

I'd spent a little too long trying to look mildly presentable this morning, hoping that maybe those words might come out of his mouth again; my quest to get him to find me mildly attractive me was quickly going to become unhealthy. Not that anything helped me much; I still looked like a fucking mess. It crumpled what little confidence I had even further when I approached the counter. I'd wanted to run, but in all likelihood Carlisle had already seen me come in and would be fully aware if I bolted. I didn't want to look like a fucking asshole.

"Hi, Garrett." He smiled shyly when I glanced up – adorable and perfect as usual – and I momentarily forgot that I was supposed to be buying something from him.

"H-hey…"

He paused for a moment, watching me, before laughing quietly and reaching for my hand. "Am I allowed to scan that paper, or not?" he teased.

Shit. I gave it to him, trying to pretend I wasn't entirely flustered. "Sorry…"

"How's work?"

"It's…work, I guess." I awkwardly scratched the back of my neck, shrugging. Bitching about your boss to someone you didn't know was exactly acceptable, but by god did I want to.

"You don't like your job?" He smiled sympathetically, handing me my receipt.

"I sit behind a desk all on the phone, it's not my favourite thing," I told him, sighing.

"It's so bad it drives you in here every day?" Teasing again, he gestured to the front page of the paper in my hand. "So bad that you have to come and get some light reading?"

I glanced down, and sure enough, the headline was just as morbid as it always was: Home invasion leaves two dead. "It's just nice to be out of the office, to be honest…It's not really about the paper." Not about the paper at all.

He leant across the counter, suddenly very, very close to me, and reached to grab something off the shelf beside me. "We give out free sweets to our customers, you know. You don't have to buy our papers." Unscrewing the top off it, he held the jar out to me. The brightly coloured wrappers glinted menacingly, and my throat tightened.

My nerves pricked and I stiffly reached out to take one, obliged. The candy burned in my palm, and I shoved it into my pocket just to get it out of my hand; I couldn't eat it. I'd have to throw it away later, but I thought it rude to refuse it. I slowly backed toward the door, trying to smile. "Thanks, Carlisle…"

"See you tomorrow?" It was half a question and half a statement.

I nodded.