by T Shadow
What I didn’t account for though, is Lucius being overfed to the point of being in a food coma as well. This would be fine, if the peppery farts hadn’t made a comeback stronger than a desperate ex-lover. It’s the one thing that stops my morning from being a princess morning. The farts. Of death, doom and destruction.
It’s my only motivation to launch myself out of this bed, let alone this room, because I can’t stand the overwhelming smell of peppery decay and death. My only issue is, Lucius is on his pillow next to my head, and Mika… Mika is in tiger form at the end of my bed… laying on my feet, like a giant fucking lapdog.
This is not how I was expecting my morning to go. I expected to get up, sort Lucius some breakfast and leave for the bookshop, but evidently, with a three hundred pound bengal tiger laying on my feet like a damn dog, my plans were squashed. Figuratively and literally. How does one wake a fucking huge cat? I’m hoping that if I wiggle my foot, Mika’s beast will take the hint and move, rather than not taking the hint and biting my damn foot off.
I’d kinda like my feet to remain on the end of my legs, you know?
Giving my foot a wiggle, I nudge the beast enough that it opens one blue eye and stares at me just enough to make me feel uncomfortable. If it isn’t bad enough already, she flicks her ears down to show me the back— with the black fur and white spot. It’s then that I begin to feel really uncomfortable. Mika is not playing this morning. Honestly, can I even call this humongous thing Mika? Maybe I’ll call it Mushu instead.
“Hey Mika, buddy, I need to get up to go to work, you can stay here with Lucius, but I need my feet back,” a low growl that’s definitely not a purr comes from the furred beast. “Yes, I’m aware my feet are warm and snuggly, but if you don’t give them back I’ll ban you from the dirty book section!” The second part comes out as a whispered hiss in a lame attempt to avoid waking up the fox-devil from hell. Mika’s one eye widens ever so slightly before narrowing at my ultimatum. With her interests in mind, she nudges over the smallest amount, just enough that my feet can escape from false imprisonment. I take my leave quicker than the prey running from the predator.
I waste no time in launching myself off of the bed, my five-foot-six frame used to throwing itself from a comfortable position like my bed or my sofa, onto my cold hard-wooden floor. Thankfully, my hoarding tendencies stretch beyond my imagination, my current thought process and my closet. What I’m saying is— most of my clothes are thrown across the floor; as if someone’s ransacked my house and left a shit storm in their wake. My landing has been softened by my past laziness.
With the obscene amount of ornaments that litter the house, you can’t tell if I’m an old lady or a petulant teenager. It’s also hard to make a house look tidy when it’s covered in a lot of sentimental crap. Maybe I should clean up and de-clutter, but I’m too busy trying to get dressed and avoiding Lucius because I need to get to work. He's Mika’s problem today, she can fight him.
I don’t see a small red fox going up against a three-hundred-pound Bengal tiger anyway.
From launching myself out of the bed to getting out the door, it’s been less than fifteen minutes. I look like I don’t give a shit about my appearance and it’s true... I don’t. I’ve thrown my hair in a haphazard bun, chucked on some jean shorts and a top that smelled the least, paired with my favourite Chuck Taylors. I look like the petulant teenager that my bedroom floor emulates.
The walk to work is the same as it always is in the Autumn months. Those leaves that fall from the trees will surround the town and stay there for months, littering the place in fifty different shades of reds, oranges and yellows. It always looks like a flame, or lava throughout the town with less heat and far less violent. The leaves do nothing to curb the temperamental weather; some days it’s hotter than hell, others, it's as cold as Cocytus. No inbetween really, because the wind is so cold that you’ll literally freeze your tits off.
Thankfully I’ve mastered the art of speed-walking to work, I can do it in half an hour or less, so my mediocre C-cup boobs are not frozen solid but slightly chilled instead. I regret not wearing my jumper, but I always leave my favourite one at work. Shit happens.
Nevermore than enough Books is a home away from home. It’s my place for introverts, book-worms, book-dragons and the like. Mainly, it’s my second home, a little secluded place full of adventures and mysteries. Unfortunately, it’s also full of finances and a fat stack of bills— and they’re not the good kind. It’s the only thing that can turn my safe place into a financial house of horrors.
It’s early this morning, so when I have to deal with my demons I can do it in peace without scaring off the very few customers that might grace the shop with their presence. The dread of dealing with the finances yet again weighs heavy on me. This time however, it’s just the sales that I have to deal with, something relatively minor, but if it involves numbers then I’ve already tapped out and my brain has left the premises, along with my will power.
Heavy is the head with the crown; I still wear it.
•°•
I’m not sure what scale of time has passed, minutes, hours, weeks? Possibly even years. Totting up my sales numbers turned into ordering in new stock which finally led to me updating my own to-be-read list. I’ve been hidden in la-la-land for an indeterminate amount of time.
But as usual, it’s the chime of the door that brings my fantasy world to a halt before crashing around my feet. It’s not that I don’t love customers in my shop; but myself and my customer service self are two completely different people. She’s some happy-go-lucky person who loves rainbows and unicorns, and my actual self is someone who hides at home and only leaves when they need sustenance. I clutch a rusty fork as my main weapon and scurry around on my hands and knees, a cross between a monkey and a mogwai that’s been fed after midnight.
Fortunately, I’ve left my rusty spoon and my red crayon at home, forcing my customer service personality to take over and head to the forefront of my attitude. Considering that the nameless and faceless customer has just come in, I give it a few seconds before moving myself out of the dimly lit, safe confines of my office and into the better lit store-front. The smell of books invades my senses, older books heightening the distinct smell of older, pressed paper, glue and dust covered dust covers.
My shop looks empty from behind the counter where I’m standing, and if the front of the shop is clear then it means that the customer is in the section off to the left, where the majority of the books are stored. The front of the shop is just that, a front. In hindsight, it’s like a small library, a try-before-you-buy section where people can sit and read the book if they so wish. Cozy armchairs litter the front of the store like just-thrown confetti, a mix-match of furniture that shouldn’t go together, but somehow coincide in harmony.
My desire to seek out the customer overrides the need to hide behind the counter— pretending to be the meek and mute, mysterious woman who works in the bookshop. Maybe it’s one the new people who have rocked up to town, and the itch to get to know them only grows. I think that’s it’s hidden desire of mine that I’ve caged for so long. For now, I won’t fight it, but I won’t give it free reign. I’ll let it out of the cage, but I’ll leash it.
As I round the counter and wander into the section where my mysterious customer may be, I walk along the aisles quietly. After walking past the first couple, I notice that there’s no one in the boring shelf-stacks, so I can rule out things like history, biology, science and autobiographies as their interests. It’s only when I pass the fiction and merge to the sci-fi section that I start hearing soft scuttles and shoes squeaking against the floor.
It’s not who I expect when I turn the corner. Bordering on the sci-fi novels is the new adult— ahem— dirty book section. I expected Finn, with his fiery ginger hair and blue eyes that captivated my soul the very first time, his viking looks and gentle bookworm personality. However, reality takes a field day and slaps me straight in the face with the not-so-subtl
e and rude awakening.
Did I expect to find the meat-head jock in my bookstore, looking at the new adult books— of all things? He even has a book in his hand as he reads the blurb. There are many ways I could start this conversation, “hello, how are you?” Or a slightly more inquisitive, “did you manage to find what you’re looking for today?” I could also be downright rude with a sardonic, “wow, you can read?” But my brain decides to forgo all previous options and head straight to sarcastically obscene with the most embarrassing statement that I think has ever left my mouth.
“Huh, never thought you’d be into soft porn… ” Not expecting my harsh statement, Landon jumps a foot off of the ground at the sound of my voice, shitting himself at my silent arrival. Someone must have not got the memo that it is I, the mysterious, sarcastic introverted woman who owns this fine establishment. This fine establishment with the poem about a crazy ass raven all over the walls.
Turning to face me, Landon all but growls, “I do not read soft porn.” He’s either blushing or angry, because the heat is crawling up his neck to his cheeks faster than my mind can comprehend. He goes from tanned to lobster red in zero–point–zero–two seconds.
“Funny that, considering the new adult genre is fifty-percent sex or sexual activities.” I nod my head towards the book that’s firmly clutched in his meaty grasp. “That one is probably a seventy-thirty on the sex to no sex scale,” tipping the corner of my lips in a half-smile smirk concotion, I lift my chin in a challenge and push the sarcastic boat further into the unchartered waters, “do you want to take a read first, or do you want me to ring that up for you?”
The snarl that rips from his lips is ferocious and somewhat expected. I know my comment was purely intended to embarrass him. Maybe I should have left the poor bloke alone, considering Mika ripped him a new one and humiliated him only a few nights before. I don’t react the same way he expects me to. You know, like a quivering, snivelling mess. Thou shalt not cower and weep in front of a massive man-child throwing a temper tantrum.
I hold still and firm whilst Landon continues his growl-trum. In the end his shoulders are shaking slightly with a barely-there controlled rage. It’s been a while in my many years that I’ve ever been around a dragon shifter and I know they have a tendency for being hot-headed, but I’ve never seen one potentially blow up at a small, sarcastic comment. But I guess that is about to change.
Not one to interrupt the connection from my mouth to my brain, I put my foot in it a bit more, “do you need five minutes to decide?”
That’s the kicker that puts Landon’s brain into overdrive. It doesn’t seem like it’s that hard to anger the guy anyway, considering he just became livid over a bloody book. What I’m not prepared for though, is the onslaught of verbal anger that comes my way. Kinda expected him to rip my head off, not chew my ear off.
“I don’t know what it is with you filthy fucking humans! Breakable, feeble and frustratingly innocent! You think you can interject yourselves into our lives, make jokes and be chummy with supernaturals, but you can’t. The real kicker is, that you think you can take the piss and belittle me, but I’m a fucking superior race. I’m a fucking dragon shifter, not some pissy little werewolf!”
His shout ends on a vicious roar as he stalks closer, his eyes changing from his normal chocolate brown to his dragon’s slightly milky eyes. I walk backwards to avoid his imposing figure, but as my back hits the shelves behind me, the door chimes in the background. I don't have time to consider it before Landon starts again, “how dare you believe that you could undermine and embarrass me! Me! Do you know who I the fuck I am? Or are you as dumb and vapid as you are fucking stupid!”
As his monologue of hate ends, his roar dying out along with his temper, a new growl increases in volume from behind me. I’m not affected by his villainous ‘I’m better than thou’ speech, but my voluntary worker is. She might have only heard half of it, but unfortunately, she walked in as I was being cornered by a man with only a few brain cells between his ears, and a mouth and a hatred that rivalled mine.
Unfortunately for Landon, he heard Mika’s low growl from across the room as soon as he finished. He can also see her, and I can only guess that the low growl wasn’t a warning, that Mika is no longer of sound mind and is definitely not on two legs. All I can assume is that there is the three hundred pound tiger from this morning standing right behind me in my bookstore, and this time, it's ready to defend its territory. Although technically it’s my shop, I’m not arguing with her right now.
Landon swallows; I know because I heard it and I saw his Adam’s Apple move with the motion. It’s a prime opportunity for me to look over my shoulder to gage the level of shit that I’m dealing with. I’m not surprised that I’m greeted by that big ass bengal, but what I did not expect was a riled up, hissing red fox to be sitting on the back of it. I thought I told Mika to not bring that little bastard to work anymore.
But the shitstorm doesn’t end there. Oh no, my day could not stop being so unfortunate. The front door chimes again and because I’m in the back section, I can only hear the person walking around as they enter. Lucius swiftly turns and sits on Mika backwards, hissing at the customer who he considers to be an intruder.
“U-uh, why is there a fox... O-on a tiger?”
I look from the direction of the voice back to Landon, whose eyes have widened since Mika’s arrival. From that stutter alone, I’m positive it’s Leland. He probably cares more about his own self-preservation than he does his friend at the moment, so he keeps himself as far away from the carnivorous beast as possible.
“Leland, I wouldn’t move. Don’t worry about the fox, he won’t climb off of Mika.”
“T-that’s Mika?!”
“Heh, yep. Your friend has pissed her off for the last time. An achievement if you ask me.”
“L-Landon, are you back there? W-what did you do?”
Our standoff doesn’t look as if it’s coming to a cease-fire anytime soon. Landon now looks like he’s about to rupture an artery, he’s quietly simmering whilst staying completely still. It’s an interesting sight to see, because one wrong movement could literally mean death. Mika’s tiger is purely predatory, and it’s been a while since she made a full appearance. The arrival of these four dragon shifters, the instance in the bar the other night, and right now has pushed my quiet, timid Mika to the limit.
The only thing stopping her from ripping the shit out of Landon right now is me... because I’m a human shield even though I’m behind him. Mika wouldn’t attack if the probability of her injuring me was quite high. I’m waiting for Landon to reply to Leland’s concerned, yet heated question but considering it doesn’t look like he’s going to any time soon I lose a little bit of hope. He’s still ramrod straight, not moving a single muscle and therefore not talking. Honestly, I’ve never appreciated the silence more. I’ve never been a huge fan of the ‘he’s so full of himself’ soundtrack.
“Leland, Landon can’t come to the phone right now,” his eyebrows come together in a scowl as his eyes narrow on me. The small movement is enough for Mika to let out a growl in response, although it sounds more like a chuckle. “Maybe it’s time to call in the cavalry, because Landon won’t get past Mika unscathed.”
It’s a few seconds before I hear fingers tapping on the screen of a phone. It’s one of those fancy new phones without any buttons, not like the one that Mika has where you have to click the buttons a million times in order to get a four lettered word. Keeping one eye on Landon and the other on Mika and both ears on Leland and Lucius, the limits of my senses and sanity are being stretched thin.
“H-hey Finn, are you a-at the Hotel? Yeah? Uh, we might need a l-little help. Landon put his f-foot in it again, we’re at the bookshop. No I d-don’t think he got your b-book. Okay, I-I’ll tell him.” Hanging up the phone, he waits by the door, in the ‘safe zone’.
“L-Landon, Finneg-gan is on his way.”
With impressive skill, Landon only opens the side o
f his lips to reply. “Not sure how Finnegan is gonna stop a fucking tiger, but okay.”
“Hey! In all fairness if you didn’t blow your load, she wouldn’t even be a tiger right now!”
“I wouldn’t have blown it if you weren’t here!”
“Kinda hard, considering it’s my fucking shop!”
The statement does its job, stopping Landon from making anymore sarcastic remarks. Although this probably benefits me more than him as I won’t have to listen to him anymore, whereas it just lessens his chance of being eaten. My body is starting to tire from standing between the bookshelf and the prey in his human suit, so I squeeze my way out from my human cage through a small gap and then make myself comfortable in the armchair by the door, still securing my position in between my two biggest issues. Leland takes a seat on the windowsill to my left and I decide to read a book whilst I’m here, because this will probably take a while. I pick the closest one from the shelf next to me, it’s a classic and one of my personal favourites; The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. Holding it up towards Landon, I tap the cover twice.
"Ever read this one Landon? It's about a guy who looks amazing on the outside, but on the inside, he's really a monster." My mouth splits into an all-knowing Cheshire smile, "isn’t that unfortunate... immortal for as far as we know, he had the ability to amplify desire but in the end it only ever ended in destruction." Tilting my head I look towards the tiger, who's still staring at Landon like a piece of prime cut steak, "it's a very good book, enlightening. Maybe I'll recommend it to your friend Finnegan, and he can..." I look him up and down and snort, "educate you on that ridiculous, chauvinistic attitude of yours."