Maxi BellclaireOnce Upon a Time
February was a chilly month, bearing the last of what winter is able to throw at the world before the season melts into spring. A miserable 25° clung to the air, but citizens still frequented the Lorsette streets with the comfort of absent wind chill. A young teen, Maxi, couldn't bear the sheer cold of the day. Short stature, slim body and delicate sun-deprived flesh. The cold preyed upon him, breaching the thick and petite flannel that hugged him to no avail. Fortunately his hat, gloves, ear-muffs and scarf were able to perform their job efficiently. Quickly, the young adult sought refuge in the city library with a purpose in mind.
The safe haven of knowledge welcomed him with open arms, which embraced him lovingly with a warmth which burned his cheeks brighter than they already were. Hat off, and gloves tucked into it. Scarf wrapped around it, and earmuffs pinching it altogether. Sweet organization. Maxi shrugged off his flannel delicately, placing his winter armor into the hood and hung it up on the third last open slot of the coatrack. The soft blue sweater he wore contradicted his detest for the frosty season, but complimented the equally colored pants.
Looking towards the front desk, one of the librarians had taken notice of me and he looked away quickly. This action immediately didn't sit well with him, and so he returned his attention to them briefly to give them a smile of acknowledgement. "I don't want to be rude... it's just weird seeing someone so often," he thought to himself anxiously. The librarian undoubtedly recognized his face from the countless times he has visited this library and spent hours upon hours seeking the enlightenment, comfort or feelings that the library's vast collection provided. Not a single book was banned from it's roster, liberally accepting all types of literature into it's infinitive rows of shelves. It's what allured the young blue-haired boy into making this rich domain a second home.
A tug on Maxi's heart urged him forward eagerly, a sudden instinct sinking into his brain. For some reason, a sudden sensation throbbed deep within him as of late. The new month introduced to him a new craving for something that'd play a serenade on his heart. There was a indescribable urgency in his wish to touch up on the romantics, and in order to do that he needed an idea of how to produce a heartfelt plot. The young writer's famished heart beckoned him to the romance section, perusing the linear lines of text-etched spines. The selection was so overwhelmingly extensive that he wasn't sure if he'd be able to settle with merely one if he were to take his time. "I might as well just pick a random one... but these are usually so cringy... why am I taking such an interest in this mushy crap?" he wondered disconcertedly. It unsettled him that he was straying out of his comfort zone, consisting of drama and tragedy, for a sensitive genre that has no personal experience or understanding of. It was a miracle that he had attracted praise for the romantic subplot in his own published book.
Maxi's hovering finger had descended, picking a book at random. Dramatically, he had gulped. His finger tipped the book over, and captured it in his palm. Flipping it over, the story bore a beautiful illustration of two hands clasped together in a tight-knit form he could already interpret as a theme of union. The title read, Strings Attached, and a twist of the wrist offered him a safe synopsis of the story. With every word he soaked in, his heart seemed to leap at every mental iteration of them like a drumbeat. A story about two men who found themselves in a one night stand, and despite the awkward circumstances, can't seem to pull apart; however, one of them is supposed to be heterosexual.
"Dr-... drama... my heart aches at just the idea of this suspense... then the romance on top of all of this...!" The blue-haired writer's face heated up so much that he thought his face were melting, and he momentarily caressed his forehead to ensure it were still there. The story foreshadowed a dramatic ride, one of his two favorite genres to both read and write. Yet, aside from the drama, the romantic aspect interested him far more than it should. It felt as if his heart wanted to reach out and touch the book on it's own.
Suddenly, he detected another presence entering the aisle. Maxi froze up nervously, afraid that they may have been peeking into his colorful mind. To his dismay, they continued his way and showed no sign of halting, and he jerked away from them suddenly when they had attempted to move past him. "S-... so sorry..." he stammered beneath his breath, and out of embarrassment he had hurried out from the depths of the dusty maze. He wondered if they had noticed how mesmerized he had been by the book in his hand. The awkward imagery of himself in his head made him want to curl up under a table, anxiety trying to commence an assault on his relatively good mood.
A few deep breaths out in the empty openness, and he had continued back towards the entrance only to take a left turn and enter the coffee shop. Inside, there were only a couple patrons whom spaced themselves away from each other and sat by their lonesome. Their eyes were deeply engaged to their own stories, and so would Maxi himself. Tension built up in the male's chest as he sauntered up to the front counter, he had already been digging in his pocket for his wallet when the clerk smiled and confirmed a peppermint latte for him. A sigh fled his pursed lips, relief chilling the fiery tenseness down like ice on a black eye. Perks of being a recognizable regular.
The exchange of funds for delicacy was made, and before anything else, the author had made sure to add additional whole milk to the latte. Then, he had sat down cross-legged at a table in the corner of the cafe, next to a massive one-way glass window that gave him a good perspective of the outside world. "Much more beautiful when you're inside and not outside in the cold..." he thought to himself idly, before turning his attention down to the book laid out before him. Every part of him demanded he flip open the cover and begin his journey into another universe, and just as he had done so, he was startled by a sharp pain in his chest that nearly threw him forward. For a moment he had thought a panic attack ailed him in that instant, only to find no such thing would happen out of the blue.
A searing seismic wave ached throughout his body. It was unlike anything he had experienced before, and so his eyes looked around warily as if expecting to find some sort of culprit wishing pain on all within their reach only to find that he was alone in that department. The only detail of interest was a newcomer who just entered the cafe, and seemed to be awkwardly paused in place. For fear of being caught sticking his eyes where they shouldn't be, he sheepishly looked down at the book and closed his eyes. "Deep breaths," he coaxed himself. The methods his therapist insisted on weren't slowing his heartbeat at all. At this rate, he feared he was soon due for a heart attack. It felt as though his cheeks were still awfully flushed, and adopting and unhealthily high temperature. Worse of all, his anxiety found this vulnerability to be all too tempting to crave in and begin its conquest. "Dammit... what's wrong with me... maybe I should call my mom."