Voices |E. Cullen|

FIFTEEN

We split ways as soon as we got to the shop in Port Angelos. He went toward his records and I stared at each bookshelf in front of me, utterly in love with the sight. It was going to take me a long time to gaze over each book title and pick out what interested me the most. If you were to let me loose in a used bookstore with free reign and no time limits, I might genuinely spend upward of twelve hours just browsing through all of the items. I also had a habit of picking up books that interested me and not realizing how many I had until I reached the end of the shelves.

The walls were shelves and some had small out-coves, so to say, where the bookshelf would cut further into the wall and then come back out. From floor to ceiling, every single book was different. Naturally it took me a long while to truly process all that there was to choose from. God bless the leggings I had chosen to wear that day, with all of the squatting and reaching there's no telling where my jeans would have been by the end of it.

I would be lying if I said that Edward didn't scare the shit out of me when he came up behind me. "Find anything good?"

I jumped lightly before looking down at my arms and noticing four books that I had grabbed along the way, some classics I hadn't had my own copy of yet, one historical fiction. "I guess so," I giggled a bit.

"Did you consciously pick those up?" He seemed confused by my reaction.

I shook my head, "I kind of go into a trance when I step into a bookstore."

He glanced over the titles I held in my arms and smiled lightly, "I'd say those are good choices. Have you read any of them yet?"

"These ones I have," I separated War and Peace, 1984, and For Whom the Bell Tolls from the historical fiction I had not read yet, "I just don't have my own copies yet." He nodded and I looked at what he picked up, a couple of classical records and some 50's music. "Listened to any of that yet?"

He chuckled, "Some, not all."

We made our way to the front to pay for our items, "What's your favorite genre of music?"

He seemed to think about it for a moment, "Honestly, probably classical. I liked the older stuff around the 30's. The 60's weren't my favorite. 70's and 80's I really hated. How about you?"

I laughed, "I love 60's, 80's and 90's rock. Country is another big love of mine, and I guess some contemporary because there are some soft songs that are relatively new and I have an appreciation for them."

"How about you play music on the way home and change my mind about those decades," he took my books out of my grasp and popped them on top of his stuff.

"Hey, you don't have to do that," my heart kind of raced.

"It's okay, I want to." He handed the cashier some cash and we both walked out of the shop and headed toward the car that was parked by the pier.

"Thank you, you didn't have to do that," I played with my fingers.

"No worries," he pushed my shoulder playfully and took an unexpected turn into a coffee shop. I trailed behind him and he ordered my drink perfectly, a medium iced coffee regular with cream and sugar and French vanilla. I produced a half smile as I realized he'd remembered something so small that I'd probably only ever told him once.

He handed me the drink after we walked outside. "Wanna try some?" I questioned. "Can you even drink human drinks?"

Edward shrugged and took a tiny sip before making a face and handing it back, "We can eat food and drink drinks, but it's more like if you were to eat dirt. It probably won't hurt you but it's not going to taste very great."

I nodded, "Makes sense, thanks for the drink, I'm surprised you remembered my order. I think I've only told you one time before."

He chuckled, "I remember a lot."