The Blue House of 1478 (5) (Patreon)

!!I JUST UPLOADED CHAPTER FOUR TEN MINUTES AGO HERE!! 

🥲

—

Instead of doing ghostly things, Levi seems to frequent the coffee shop, the dog park, and the local library.  Specifically, the gardening section, coffee always in hand, and concentration overwhelming enough that he doesn't seem to notice me noticing him.

I never see Levi speak to anyone because usually, he's frowning, and often, he's bowed over a book.

He looks like he belongs there, like he's a, albeit heavily tattooed, photo taken from some sort of still of an advertisement.

Books, I would've never pegged him as the sort.

Books, books, and more books.  Books about flowers.

It's strange to meet someone that looks like they belong somewhere opposite to how they appear.  I've ever seen him in daylight, much less the fake fluorescent bulbing that lights every store in Sleepy Birch.

In the barely-there breach of dawn, he had looked menacing at best, with his glower, build, and sharp eyes.

Now, not so much.

The wood in the library is soft, rose-glossed mahogany, and the dark carpet brown.  It's quiet and smells like washed whites, and the sun always peeks through the windows.

It makes Levi seem peaceful.  It's where I come when my mind feels peaceful, too. At some point, when watching him, I begin to equate the two.

—

The library run-ins become more frequent and less avoidable; the more Levi favors the times I usually go. I don't mind, really, and tend to forget he's there when he's really quiet.

It's my favorite place, the library, mostly because nearly no one ever lingers for long, but that's begun to change, and the quiet nature of Levi starts to serve as a distraction regardless.

Apparently, after six months of being the strangest recluse I've ever seen — ghost-man has decided to be Sleepy Birch Library's number one client, which is fine, but he's quite the hit amongst the younger girls in town.

Which is — Fantastic.  I guess.

I don't blame them.  There's slim pickings.  But now, there are the very few teenagers that this town has, sitting in seats they've never touched before, trying to look interested in novels that may help them to look like budding intellectuals

— and now, I have nowhere to sit.

Of course, then, there's Levi, nearly too much to fit into such a soft light, too many sharp edges and rough features, with too much strength in his stance to look so at ease.  His hands are large enough to cup the book and keep it spread with his thumb, attention and grace far exceeding mine when he takes a sip of his coffee with the other.

The library is becoming quite a thriving location, for a good reason.

I laugh a little at that, but dig my library card from my pocket anyway, throwing another look over my shoulder as I pick through old favorites on the shelf.

I wonder what a man like him is doing here, anyway; who in their right mind would want to live out by a stale lake, in a dingy old house, in a quiet small town.

The wanna-be writer in me wants to think it's something grand, something worth picking apart, but nothing ever happens here.

Except for funerals.

That sentiment is sad in itself, and I let my thoughts wander to it before I hear a book snapping shut.

My rain jacket crinkles when I move my arms and my eyes refocus on Levi.

His fingers are tightening over his paper coffee cup, eyebrows raised as he waits for an answer to his non-verbalized question.  Or maybe he has said something, and I hadn't caught it amid my daydreaming.

The grey-eyed man snorts after a moment, bounces back on one foot,

"Why are you always staring at me?"  Levi's voice is low, but his eyes travel back to the titles in front of him with disinterest like he doesn't mind if I answer; he just wanted to voice that he's noticed.  "I should start charging you a fee."

I blink twice at the words, fingers curling over the new edition of E. L. Gorm's mystery thriller.

The girls behind him start to whisper.

I roll my eyes because, of course, I'd invite creepy tenant man's overzealous paranoia — or his desire to be a dick.

"Are you talking to them?"  I motion to two girls at the end of the aisle, who quickly turn their heads to feign interest in the sci-fi books they hold in their hands.  "Because they were definitely staring way before I was."

Again.  Can't blame them.

"No,"  Levi frowns a bit, tucks the book in his hand back into place, "I'm asking you — the one who hasn't blinked in two minutes."

"... First off, that's probably not even possible because I have a cold, so my eyes are mega watery,"  I yank my rain coat's zipper up, turning to head towards the front, "Second, I'm actually checking out a book, not looking at a book, so I can check you out, like,"  I point towards the two girls again with a jerk of my thumb, "other clientele."

There's a beat where Levi doesn't respond and where the others awkwardly make their way out of the sci-fi section, but after a moment of quiet assessment, his lip lifts in a way that seems like it borders on an invitation, but I can see the dangerous crook of his brows,

"Sure about that?"  He asks, and I feel my eyes widen a bit, my penchant for snarkiness overtaken by shock.

No one, I repeat, no one has made my stomach flip since Johnny Depp in Cry-Baby, and now I'm completely out of my zone, and I don't want to be.

"Wouldn't have a problem with it, exactly."

After an intense bout of staring, I turn abruptly, eyes still wide.  I can hear his breath of a chuckle, the swish swish swish of my noisy raincoat.

I cut through the romance section to avoid him, assaulting my eyes with many half-naked, muscular men with flowing hair and red-dressed damsels.

This has to be old people porn; I shudder, bringing my shoulders in closer as I jog up to the check stand.

But sure as shit,

"Newspaper kid."

Levi is behind me.  He has his hand outstretched, my library card dangling from his pinched fingers.

"Your card."

"Stop calling me kid,"  I seethe, sliding the novel over to the librarian, "I'm in my twenties, I pay rent, save for tuition, and I'm surviving off top ramen, just like any other young adult.  Also, I just ran through the old lady porn to get away from you, so you should take that as a hint."

"Twenties..."  Levi lifts his brows, eyes bright under the darkness of his lashes, "Aren't you a little too —"

Old to be a newspaper boy?

Adrian used to say the same damn thing.

Doesn't sound like a self-esteem crushing line, yet it always proves to be one.

"Aren't you a little too boring to be the town's mystery bachelor?"  I turn my head away from him; nerves lit with how he's leaning into my space when he teases, my forearm resting on the desk next to mine.

Our town has reeled in a looker.

But Adrian was also a looker.

Don't be an idiot.

"Right, I should be more like,"  Levi glances down at my books, a small flash of surprise on his features, "One of Gorm's characters?"

He hums a bit, looks a tiny bit frustrated, unnecessarily so.  Whatever humor that was there before has passed,

"...You read that guy's shit?"

I feel my hackles rise because if there is any such thing as an E. L. Gorm fanboy —

I am him.

"His books are my favorite,"  I take it back from the woman in front of me, tuck it under my arm, "Maybe your interests lack as much as your social skills."

Levi scoffs out a chuckle, pushing back from the desk with the palms of his hands. He shakes his head as he leaves,

"Pick up a real book."  The stormy-eyed man grunts, and the library door's bell chimes with his departure.