#leydileyla

Matt groans as you took his cock between your lips, his hand  on your head, gently scratching your scalp as he sits on the couch. It’s addicting being between his legs. Especially his thighs. When you take him in deeper he whispers your name, his thighs twitching closer to your face, the muscles only graze your skin and you moan. 

“You really enjoy being between my legs don’t you?” he rasps. “Maybe I should always keep you down there--” 

You only groan at his words, your heart fluttering. His cock stretches your throat as you take him in deeper, the soft curls at the base of it tickles your nose. Then you slowly pull back, licking only the side of his length as you looked up. With a smile he strokes your cheek, his thumb pulling the side of your lip. 

The store was completely empty bar himself and a calico shop cat sitting idly on the counter, keeping watch over Remus as he moved through the aisles. He could hear a faint humming coming from somewhere in a back room; he couldn’t place the tune, but it sounded familiar and gave him the feeling of nostalgia.

Remus walked down the rows of light brown shelves, wondering what the place might’ve looked like in it’s prime. He could imagine a crowd of writing enthusiasts stumbling over each other to explore the curious shop. The light layer of dust over every surface told him that the pinnacle of the shop’s business had long passed.

The wooden floorboards groaned underneath Remus’ steps as he moved to another section of books, this one seemingly in more disarray than the last. His brows furrowed in thought as he searched for the meaning behind the reckless organization. After a moment of roaming over the varying titles, Remus realized that the alluring tune had stopped, and the sound of humming had been replaced with a dissonance of shuffling coming from the once unmanned counter.

Peering through the gap on the shelf before him, Remus watched as you shifted through a stack of books that now sat on the desk. While you inspected the deep brown hardcover in one hand, the other moved to give attention to the relaxed feline that was now purring in contentment under your touch. Remus almost laughed at how well you fit into your surroundings, your clothing and aura reflecting the still and soothing atmosphere of the bookstore.

Remus was intrigued by you – the way you graciously flipped through the secondhand book, the way you muttered reassurances to the multicolored cat. Deciding that he couldn’t go a second longer without knowing you, he moved from his place in the aisles. Hearing the creaking floorboards, you glanced over and offered a genuine smile to the sandy haired man before you.

“Hello. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“That’s alright. I’ve only just popped in a moment ago.”

Remus approached where your place the counter, his fingers twisting around themselves in a nervous manner.

“Is there something that I can help you with?”

He stopped just short of you and looked at the books laid out over the wooden countertop. Some were so worn that you could barely read the cover, others new with price stickers still stuck to the spine.

“Well, I originally came in to have a look around, but now I have a question.”

You nodded silently, waiting for him to continue. His gaze met yours and you could see curiosity written across his features.

“I’ve been trying to figure it on my own. The books on the shelves, they’re not arranged by author or title or genre. Why did you organize them the way that you did?”

Your mouth turned up into a grin as you listened to him speak. Most people didn’t question the odd arrangement of your books and you were appreciative of this intrigued stranger in your shop.

“Would you like to know the secret?”

“Please.”

You grabbed a book from the pile and made your way towards the shelves. Remus followed wordlessly, almost as if he was in a trance as he awaited your explanation.

“I’ll tell you something that most people don’t know. I’ve placed most of these books exactly where they sit, based on nothing. If someone asks why I’ve arranged my books a certain way, I ask them if they have any ideas. Some say I’ve arranged them by color scheme, some would say I’ve grouped stories that create similar emotions in the reader.”

You glanced over at Remus to see him eyeing you with a perplexed look. Turning to face him completely, you continued.

“It’s all about interpretation. Like how people might interpret an art piece differently than the person beside them, everyone has a different idea about my methods. The truth is, there is no method.”

It seemed like the pieces finally fell into place in Remus’ mind. He was completely intrigued by the person in front of him. Before he could get too lost in his thoughts, you opened the book in your hands, eyes downcast onto the faded pages as you read.

“Take this book for example. This page says: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” I could put this book anywhere and every person that saw it would have a different poetic explanation for its placement.”

“That’s a great book. I’m a fan of Mary Oliver myself.”

Your grin grew as you took in the well-mannered man before you.

“And what would you think if this was the first book you opened in my shop?”

“I would take it as a sign. Maybe I need to recognize the wild and precious aspects of life.”

You both stood silently in contemplation for a moment. Neither of you had any thoughts beyond the walls of the bookstore, as if you were the only people left in the world. You closed the book gently and slid it in an empty space on the shelf beside Remus’ figure before turning to face him.

Y’know, I think I’ve already experienced the precious part of life. Now, I just have to work on the wild.”