With all of her friends already gone back to their homes on that late Sunday morning, Aideen had the afternoon at her leisure. Lady Anagharad was off visiting friends in Agartha, friends that Aideen still wasn't to meet, not until Lady Absinthe had arranged their presentation. Not that she minded—it was a brief escape from the routine that surrounded her like a gilded cage. And so Sunday afternoons were her own little adventure.

She rode her bike downtown, to the used book store that she'd seen once in old photos of her father. Once, she though she'd even heard Lady Anagharad say that it was one of her father's favorite places to visit in town. How she knew that, Aideen wasn't entirely sure. It wasn't Lady Anagharad's nature to care much about Goldwater Harbor or the human world. And it wasn't like Aideen ever knew her paternal grandparents. 

But that didn't matter.

What mattered was that it was Sunday afternoon and Aideen skipped through the door of the used book store, ready for an adventure. Sunlight streamed through the prisms of the light-catcher in the front window, casting rainbows into Aideen's curls and scattering them across the nicked wooden floors. Easy-listening filtered through the dated speakers, taking on a tinny, static-y quality that made the whole place feel like another world far away.

There were a few other patrons, but they kept to themselves in the same way the college student working the register was, with him being on the phone and only occasionally talking to his female co-worker about the same age whenever she popped out of the backroom area. Aideen ignored them all and headed straight for the minuscule manga section. She scanned the titles for any new donations from some of the series she collected from. Mainly magical girl titles, but there were a few shoujo titles outside of that genre that she liked.

Upon seeing none, she continued to her second-favorite section—the mysteries.

She looked through the old paperbacks, her fingers trailing along the worn spines and faded titles on the hunt for a historical mystery. Maybe she'd find one with a touch of romance, too, with the witty banter and sweeping declarations of love amongst the descriptions of a time long past. She stopped—her hand floated over a title that intrigued her. The Wicked Heroines Club—Mystery of the Mountain. 

She reached for it—only to brush against another, callused with a scar down the back.

Aideen pulled away and turned to see a boy about her age. Tall and slim, with floppy brown hair and eyes like worn denim, he was dressed entirely in black, in clothes that were a little too big. If she weren't looking closely, she might not have noticed a certain litheness to his build.

She felt her face go warm as she realized she had been looking at him too closely. 

"Sorry, you can have that one." She looked away. 

"Oh, no, it's fine," he assured her. "I was just stopping by. You seem like you come here often. Must've been looking for this one for a while."

"Not really, I just thought the title sounded interesting." Aideen chanced a look at him again.

He had a gentle smile, she decided, with something charmingly shy about him.

"It's fine, really." He removed the book from the shelf and pressed it into her hands. "I just wanted an excuse to talk to you."

As soon as he said it, his whole face went red and he looked away. 

Aideen couldn't help but smile. "I wouldn't think I was so hard to talk to. I'm not scary, am I?" 

"What? No." He looked back at her quickly, only to look away again. 

Aideen thrust her free hand out. "My name's Aideen."

He accepted it, able to meet her eyes again. Some of the pink dissipated from his face, but remained in his cheeks as he clasped her hand. "Ansel."

"There, wasn't too scary I hope," she teased. "I haven't seen you around before."

He shrugged. "Just came in yesterday."

"Wait, you mean like moved here?" 

Ansel shrugged again. "Something like that."

The threat of an awkward silence grew between them. Aideen glanced over him, trying to find anything that could extend the conversation, that could keep those blue-jean eyes on her. For the boy-next-door features with freckles and a serious case of babyface, there was an edge with the scar through his right eyebrow that weaved past the corner of his eye and down his cheek. 

Come to think of it, he had a lot of scars.

"You must be an adrenaline junkie."
"Excuse me?" He tilted his head.

Aideen clapped her hand over her mouth. "Sorry, what I meant was—where did you get the scar?"

"Fell in the woods, running around with some friends." He glanced away. 

As he turned, Aideen heard the small jingle of metal—which drew her eye to a small silver charm dangling from black cord with two matching silver beads separated from the main charm by knots. The small beads had little Celtic-looking designs and the main charm was a silver lightning bolt with small designs within. 

Something about that symbol was familiar to Aideen, but she couldn't figure out where she'd seen it before.

"Oh, my amulet?" She hadn't realized he'd been looking at her again. He smiled, and this time she noticed dimples. He lifted the charm—amulet, he said—for her to see. "Made it myself."
"Really?" Aideen leaned in closer, to see more intricate Celtic-looking designs inside of the lightning bolt. "The details are so tiny!"

She looked back at up at him, and found herself breathless at the realization of the lack of distance between them. "How'd you do it?"
He opened his mouth to answer—only to be interrupted by a buzzing noise. Ansel removed a cracked phone from his pocket and scowled. 

"I'm sorry, I've gotta get going." He slipped it back into his pocket, only for a small smile to return. "Maybe I'll see you again, Aideen?"

"Oh you will, at school." Aideen tossed her blonde curls over her shoulders. 

"I look forward to it." He smiled. "See you Monday."

"See you Monday," she echoed. But he was gone.

She turned around and let out a small squeal. There was a certain warmness in her heart, something she couldn't fully describe. It was the kind of feeling that only came in books, the kind of thing she'd always hoped would happen to her but secretly knew never would. She could picture the hearts in her eyes if this was a cartoon or an anime, the soundtrack. 

What would her song of choice even be?

She hadn't even heard which one was playing when he'd approached her. 

That didn't matter.

What did matter was that Aideen was certain that she'd fallen head over heels in love at first sight. And she could not wait for Monday to roll around.