Icarus laughed as he fell

Floyd wasn't a stranger to the bookstore, but it wasn't one of his go-to spots around town. Typically if he was seeking out a book, he'd be in the library, or perhaps even the thrift store first - that being where he had scored many of his most beloved books. The thrift store often didn't have exactly what Floyd wanted, however, if he was looking for anything in particular, and sometimes Floyd simply needed to own a copy of the book, not just borrow it from the library. So, he was familiar enough with the bookstore, but he certainly didn't have the layout memorised as of yet.

"oh, in most modern murder mystery books no, it's not usually the butler. you see, there was a period of time where that was the common ending, i believe it was mary roberts rinehart who first did it. but, now saying things like that is meant as more of a joke because it's such a cliche..." he trails off, realizing that he's been speaking for a longer time than was probably necessary. "i apologize, you didn't need a whole explanation. do you have any suggestions when it comes to mystery novels? or authors, for that matter?"

"I know you meant that as a joke, but let me save you from yourself because you just inadvertently guessed the ending," the author chuckles. What luck! Turning back to the mystery novels that were on the shelves before them she scanned the offerings. Among the titles that she's read, there are a few that seem to align with their fellow bibliophile's taste.

"Alright, you can try any of these," while she spoke Nova selected four replacement options and presented it to Richie. "These will have you questioning everything from the moment you finish the first chapter." That's a Nova guarantee, they internally add. It's a good thing that they're not boastful even though she's earned the right to be.

"you'll have to accept my thanks, i daresay you just saved me from a papery grave. which, while still papery, i think i'll enjoy much more now." the joke is bad and corny, but he makes it with the hope that maybe she likes bad and corny. "do you read a lot yourself? i'm richie, by the way."

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Connor’s blush deepened at the pet name, his grin pulling lopsided like he wasn’t sure how to contain all that warmth. “You keep saying things like that and you’re gonna have me tripping over my own feet before we even get to the theater seats,” he admitted, rubbing his thumb nervously over the back of Richie’s hand even as he held onto it tightly. The idea of being kept to himself for the evening made his stomach flutter in a way he hadn’t felt in a long while.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Possessive, huh?” he echoed with a soft laugh, ducking his head for a moment before glancing back up. “I don’t know about turning heads,” he went on, voice warm but a little sheepish, “but if I do, I’m pretty sure it’s just because you’ve got me smiling like an idiot.” His ears burned even as he tried to play it off with a chuckle. 

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ As they moved toward the concessions, he squeezed Richie’s hand back, finding a little more footing in the small gesture. “Popcorn and Sour Patch Kids are classics,” he agreed, tone warm. “But since you’re letting me spoil you, I think I’ll surprise you. You’ll just have to trust me–and if it’s terrible, I’ll make it up to you with, uh… fries after?” His laugh came a little sheepish, and he continued, “Or maybe that could be a surprise too. What comes after, I mean.” He wasn’t normally so bashful around others, but Richie had him double–triple–checking everything he said.

"if you insist," he concedes, opening his mouth expectantly as connor offers the candy to him. he chews the gummy, eyebrows drawn together thoughtfully as he registers the flavor and texture. "is it meant to be quite so chewy? i feel as if i might get need to visit the dentist just for eating this. i don't think it suits my tastes, do forgive me, love."

he does feel just the slightest bit guilty for disliking the candy, connor had been eager to share it with him. but, as with a decent portion of american foods, richie felt like they were a little bit too artificial tasting for him. he missed sweets from the united kingdom, he hadn't seen any jelly babies and cadbury dairy milk bars in the time he'd been staying in america.

"you also want me to try...did you call it twuzzlers? i think i've seen those in stores, it seems like some kind of licorice?" he recalls seeing a similar brand name in a store, with a ropelike candy inside the packaging. hopefully that was what connor was referring to, otherwise richie was lost. "maybe i'm a bit biased, but i don't think any sweet could measure up to how sweet you are, dear."

Koda didn't consider herself much of a cook. She could do a few things, but never got too creative. Tonight was different, though. After the recent events in town and the run-in with the boy she left behind, a treat was necessary. All she'd wanted was a comforting bowl of Irish stew and soda bread. Most of what she knew how to make was from her youth and her mother's teachings. Once she got older, something like that didn't feel as important as everything else. There were far bigger things at stake than learning how to make something that didn't go in a microwave. Convenience won out.

She'd gathered almost everything besides a Guinness to wash it all down. That was her last stop, but the one she lingered on the longest. There were options she'd never seen before that called her in, while the blonde already knew very well she wouldn't be swayed. It only made the situation worse when a bit of eye candy wandered into the same aisle, looking at the wine adjacent to her. Her gaze flicked over at him, the edge of a smile confirming what was in her eyes. Koda went for the bottle she'd come for all along, but paused before placing it in her cart. "Don't tell me you're a wine guy, are you?" Not that it made a difference, more of an excuse to strike up a conversation with the attractive stranger. "I suppose wine's easier to share, but I don't like to share my juice."

he glances at the woman speaking upon being addressed, attention pulled away from his wine conundrum. "guilty as charged. you wound me, miss." he responds, a hand over his heart in mock despair. "guinness is a good stout though, i'd never fault someone for choosing it. i'm just not in the mood for beer tonight." while richie did typically drink wine, he was very familiar with other varieties of alcohol. maybe it was because he felt like wine was classier, or maybe it was just the romanticism of it, but he tended to gravitate towards it for whatever reason. "but sharing is half the fun, isn't it? sure, you could have it all to yourself, but i prefer the intimacy, if you get what i mean."

So that’s why Vale was at Riverside Bookstore right now. He’d read all the books he’d brought with him and had thought about going to the library, but Vale liked the idea of perusing the new releases to find something he hadn’t already read. As he wandered the aisles, Vale considered what genre he wanted to read, and that was when he brushed against the stranger. When the man began to speak, Vale paused, thinking the guy was going to tell him off; already Vale clenched his fists, prepared to make a scene in this bookstore (he didn’t want to, but Vale also knew himself). But that wasn’t what happened. Surprised, Vale turned to the stranger as he asked about the book, unclenching his fists. “Well now you’ve solved it,” Vale said, straight faced, but then he started to smile softly; he was really glad this hadn’t turned into a confrontation. “Just kidding,” he told the man, “I haven’t actually read that one, but the author is pretty reliable. Maybe I’ll get that too.” He took another copy of the book, ready the synopsis on the inside cover. Then he looked at the man properly, noticing now how handsome he was. “Hey,” he said with another smile, “my name is Vale. Sorry about bumping into you.” Though now Vale was glad it had happened.

"come off it, you hardly tapped me. i believe there's far worse crimes than accidentally nudging someone." he waves his hand dismissively, waving off the apology. if that was the sort of thing others got upset by, richie wasn't the type who reacted that way. he understood that people got lost in thought and weren't always aware of their surroundings. "i'm richie, pleasure to meet you, vale. i've not read this author so i haven't the foggiest if they're any good. if their writing isn't good i do hope you'll accept my sincerest apologies."

he regards vale, studying him with a faint smile. "you've piqued my interest, do you usually pick up a book for the story or do you tend to stick with the same authors? i find that i've rarely read more than one novel by the same writer, but then again i think that might be part of the spice of life."

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ There were a lot of things Connor enjoyed in life–football games in the park, the thrill of a Nascar race, and dating, even if most dates ended up as stories rather than happily-ever-afters. Since Johanna had moved back to Cardinal Hill, she’d become his favorite audience for those stories, listening as he recounted each new date, rating how it went, and debating whether or not there’d be a second one.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Very few ever made it past that first hurdle, but Richie was different. From the start, Connor had known he wanted another date. It wasn’t just that Richie was easy on the eyes–it was his humor, his smarts, and that accent that had Connor blushing every time it wrapped around a teasing pet name.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ So he hadn’t hesitated when Richie suggested the movies. Connor had already seen the film once, but he didn’t mind a repeat if it meant another night with him. As he stepped into the theater, eyes scanning the crowd, he spotted Richie and felt his grin bloom without even thinking. He lifted a hand in greeting, warmth buzzing under his skin.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ It took all of two seconds for the blush to creep up when Richie complimented him. He tugged at the collar of his black-and-red jacket, warm enough for the chill creeping into town, and smoothed his nice jeans, cuffed neatly at the bottom over clean sneakers. The plain white tee underneath felt suddenly too plain under Richie’s gaze.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Geeze, you think so?” he laughed, bridging the last bit of distance and pulling Richie into a hug. The warmth of him hit immediately, and Connor held on a heartbeat longer than he meant to before pulling back, suddenly colder despite the jacket. His grin returned, boyish and eager. “Did you get any food yet? You hungry? My treat, since you grabbed the tickets.”

he pulls back from the hug, hand lingering briefly on connor's arm to catch his hand, intertwining his fingers with the man's as if it was instinct. "you know, seeing you like this makes me think i should keep you all to myself for the evening."

there was something about the way connor was so earnest that it made richie feel drawn to him. their conversations weren't just niceties, but genuine discussions that richie could tell the man took seriously. it was a refreshing change from the amount of shallow conversations he had with other pursuits.

"you should be careful, if you keep turning heads like this, i might get possessive." he teases, giving connor's hand a playful squeeze. he guides connor towards the concessions line, thumb brushing over the man's knuckles. "now, i wouldn't dream of letting you spoil me, but if you insist. how does popcorn and sour patch kids sound? or should i let you surprise me?"