Secrets

238 5 0

by Annannette

by Annannette

A smile spread across his face when he entered the small private room in the very back of the library. On the edge of his desk laid a new stack of books and he cocked his head to let his eyes wander over the titles on the spines.

Hush Hush
Here we are now
Beyond a darkened shore
Our dark duet
Awaken
The Art of Feeling

His fingers traced each word and he murmured them aloud even though there was no one present to hear him. He didn't know who left the books, but they were here every morning when he arrived, replacing the stack he left behind after a long day of writing. He already knew what dedication to write in his newest novel. Because whomever left the poems had crafted the backbone of this story and had given his words wings.

On the few rare days without a stack welcoming him, he never managed to write anything. Not a single line. Not a single word. Not a single letter. But on all the other days he wrote pages and sentences as if writing was easy, as if creativity wasn't an incident, as if inspiration was not deeply buried whenever he needed it.

A few times he had contemplated showing up early, but there had always been that shimmer of fear holding him back. There was a certain beauty in inspiring secrets, a beauty that could be shattered by knowing. And yet, he couldn't imagine to be disappointed in anyone who was capable of crafting love letters with words not even their own.

However, instead of wandering around the library to have a look at the librarians or daily customers, he wrote. He wrote about love. He wrote about longing. He wrote about two lovers far apart and yet connect, their souls two pieces of the same puzzle, beautiful on their own, but only complete together. And at the end of the day, when the story had grown by three more chapters, he wrote a few more lines.

But this time with stolen words.

This splintered silence
Heartbeat
The beauty of darkness
Heartbeat
Beautiful Creatures
Defy the Stars

With a smile on his face he closed the door of the small private room at the very back of the library behind him and even though some secrets were sweet he glanced at all the people he walked past on his way to the exit. Maybe his muse was now staring at him, just like he was staring at them. And maybe, just like him, they were afraid of ruining the magic of the unknown.

When he returned the next day however his desk was empty. The stack he had left had disappeared, but no new stack had been left behind. And even though he knew his muse probably simply had a day off or more important matters to think about, he couldn't help but fear that this time the poems wouldn't return and would be gone forever.

But just when he had opened his laptop, even though he already knew he wouldn't be able to write today, a soft knock on the door echoed through the small private room at the very back of the library.

"Who's there?" He looked over his shoulder and watched how the door opened slightly to reveal a beautiful red haired girl with piercing blue eyes that seemed to stare straight into his bare soul.

"Jon?" Her voice was firm, but it trembled a little as if even just talking to him made her nervous. "Do you mind if I come in for a moment?"

He actually had to tell her that he was working, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. He couldn't bring himself to lie to her. He would not be working today. At least by talking to her he would do something somehow useful. "Come in."

She pushed the door further open and her high heels ticked on the floor when she walked in. In her arms she carried a stack of books and her cheeks heated up when she noticed his glance wandering over the titles. "I thought that maybe..." She hesitated. "Maybe it was time to finally deliver the stack in person." She placed the books on the edge of his desk and stuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

The Shadow Queen
The Sleeping Prince
Soulmates
Fallen in Love

Just like every day his finger traced the words and just like every day a smile spread across his face. "Why today?" He whispered, his throat all of a sudden dry and his hands all of a sudden trembling.

"I don't know." She shifted her weight and licked her lips. "A hunch? A sudden strike of courage? The fact that this is the last day of my internship and I won't be here anymore tomorrow?" She cocked her head. "I have nothing to lose and everything to win. Because..." She gestured at the stack of books. "I want to get to know the man behind the words. And either he wants to get to know me too, or I will leave knowing that at least I've tried."

Slowly Jon stood up from his seat and walked towards her. He had never wondered what his muse would look like, or sound like, or move like. None of that had ever mattered. His muse had been a feeling, a certain emotion that could always brighten his most horrible moods, a constant presence.

But now she was standing in front of him. A beautiful young woman, slightly taller than him and a little flustered and insecure.

Even if he had tried to imagine what his muse would look like, he wouldn't have been able to come up with and image even half as pretty as she truly was. "I'd love to get to know you." He placed his hands on her shoulders and where his hands touched her a pleasant warmth made his skin tingle. "Although it kinda feels like I already do."

When she looked up at him with a glimmer in her bright blue eyes his heart skipped a beat in his chest.

There was a certain beauty in having an unknown muse. It had certainly led to the best book he had ever written. But now it was time for the finale and if his current feelings were an indication of what was to come, it was gonna be spectacularly perfect.