#interaction. open

He hadn’t read a book for leisure in longer than he could remember, and as Louis meandered through the aisles he had to wonder: did he even like reading? The only way to find out, he reasoned, was to at least find something and give it a try. He hadn’t the first idea where he should begin, and he wandered from biography section to mystery and thriller, then took a turn around a corner to literary fiction. Despite the age-old adage not to judge a book by its cover, that’s exactly what Louis did, occasionally picking up any tome that looked interesting, to read the inside flap and determine whether it held any interest for him. His eyes scanned titles until he found one that looked familiar, and he picked it up, idly skimming through a few of the pages until he realized why it had looked familiar. This was that BDSM book that all the housewives in his apartment had been obsessed with. Was it even any good? His brow furrowed and he read a few sentences before deciding it very much was not. 

As Louis went to put the book back down, movement from the corner of his eye made him look over and lock eyes with the other person in the aisle, with the title of said BDSM book prominent enough for them to see. “Oh, I wasn’t -- I’m not actually reading this book. Not that it’s bad, or whatever. Or maybe it is? I don’t know. I was just .... looking at it,” he finished lamely, feeling the heat rise to his face. “But I mean, that can happen, right? You think it’s one book but it turns out it’s another. They’re all blue these days.”