It was a Saturday evening. Outside a small, quiet bookstore, a man of average height stood, his gaze lingering on the warmly lit interior.
Ephraim, with his thick-framed glasses, brown eyes, and dark hair, wore a black shirt under a casual jacket and jeans.
His expression was unreadable, caught between the comfort of routine and the temptation to head straight home.
But his feet carried him inside, following the familiar path he took most evenings after work. The bookstore's calm atmosphere greeted him, the subtle scents of old paper and polished wood settling around him like an old friend.
He drifted through the aisles, eyes glancing over spines he'd memorized, appreciating the silence and how time seemed to slow within these walls.
Tonight, though, something pulled him toward a corner he rarely visited. Nestled among the usual bestsellers was a book unlike any he'd seen before.
The cover was dark, nearly black, with faint swirls of purple and yellow, its surface textured and intricate. There was no title, no author's name, only an enigmatic design that drew his fingers to trace its contours.
Curiosity sparked, a quiet thrill sparking in his chest as he turned it over, hoping for some hint on the back—but found nothing. The cover remained blank and unyielding, adding to its mystery. It felt almost… otherworldly.
Ephraim hefted the book in his hands. It was heavier than he expected, solid, as if it held something significant within its sealed pages. Whatever it was, it called to him. He walked to the counter without a second thought. He had the money, and he couldn't imagine leaving without it.
Ephraim made his way to the counter, the book in hand, only to find the cashier absorbed in her own novel.
She looked about three, maybe four years younger than him, her striking red hair framing a fair, heart-shaped face. Her almond-shaped eyes, emphasized by well-defined brows, gave her an attentive look, even as her gaze skimmed the page. The gentle slope of her nose and faint shadows beneath her makeup softened her expression, adding a quiet charm.
A small smile tugged at his lips as he read her name tag. "Mikha." Without meaning to, he murmured it aloud, barely a whisper.
"Do I know you?" Her voice cut through his thoughts, catching him off guard.
He blinked, feeling warmth rise to his cheeks. "Oh—no, not really. I just… read your name tag," he stammered, letting out a nervous chuckle. "Sorry about that. Ha ha."
Mikha raised an eyebrow, her amusement unmistakable. She closed her book, sliding it aside to give him her full attention. "Happens all the time," she said, though the playful smile tugging at her lips suggested otherwise.
"Oh?" Her teasing response made him smile inwardly. Confident, he thought, charmed by her easygoing attitude. "I'm a regular here, but I don't think I've seen you before. Are you new here? Did something happen to the owner?"
A flicker of surprise crossed her face before she leaned on the counter, hands folded. "Ah, so you are one of the regulars," she replied, sounding genuinely interested. "I'm just filling in while the owner's away on a trip. Lucky me, right?" Her smile was both mischievous and welcoming, and Ephraim couldn't help but feel at ease.
He nodded, the hint of a grin softening his own face. "Lucky for me, too, I suppose."
She looked at him momentarily caught off guard by his response, though she recovered quickly, not letting it show. "So, what can I help you with?"
"Do you know what kind of book this is?" Ephraim asked, holding up the mysterious volume. "I found it near the cooking and fashion section, but… it doesn't really fit in over there."
Curious, she took the book from him, her fingers brushing over the dark, textured cover as she examined it. "Strange," she mused, turning it over in her hands. "I brought home a similar one yesterday. Same feel to it, but with bright colors instead."
"Did you get a chance to read it?"
She shrugged, an amused glint in her eyes. "Not yet. Maybe later—if I get bored enough." Her smile suggested that boredom was a rarity.
Ephraim scratched the back of his neck, searching for what to say next. Then, deciding to keep things simple, he asked, "So… how much?"
Mikha scanned the barcode, and a price appeared on the screen. "Two hundred pesos."
He pulled out his wallet, paid, and waited as she began to bag the book. But before she finished, a thought struck him, and he hesitated. "Would you… mind letting me know what's in that book if you do start reading it?"
Mikha paused, looking up at him, her expression thoughtful. Then she gave a small nod, her smile softening. "Sure. Only fair if you tell me what's in yours, too."
Mikha paused, looking up at him thoughtfully, her smile softening. "Sure. Only fair if you tell me what's in yours, too."
Ephraim felt a surge of confidence and pulled out his phone, holding it out to her. "Then… would it be alright if I add you as a friend? You know, so we can compare notes."
She hesitated for a moment, eyes meeting his as if weighing him up, then shrugged with a small smile. "Why not?"
Taking his phone, she quickly typed in her name and hit "Add Friend." Almost immediately, a notification popped up on her own phone, and with a single tap, she accepted.
Handing the phone back to him, she said, "Guess I'll be hearing from you soon, then?"
Ephraim nodded; his voice steady but his heart racing. "Definitely. Looking forward to it."
As he left the bookstore, a quiet thrill buzzed through him, his steps lighter than usual.