Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)Joe was a good bit in front of Oliver whenever he had stopped and looked into the shop window. He had missed the Oliver staring at the fabric, reminiscing in his memories, for the better. Joe’s stomach couldn’t take much more at the moment. Even whenever he turned around at Oliver mentioning getting the books first, it raised his blood pressure. Oliver walked past him with a sense of purpose and even though he waited for Joe to catch up before he went into the book store, Joe had zero doubts now that Oliver had been here before. Oliver didn’t even wander around a little bit upon entering. He had gone directly over to the puzzles section and then books.
Joe stayed at the front of the store. He could see Oliver still from where he was standing, feigning glances at abundant amount of magazines. His fingers lightly brushing over the occasional magazine as if he was going to pull it out before deciding not to. Occasionally he rotated the stand, turning it from women’s health, to cooking, to travel, and then to sports. He took a deep breath, swallowing back the overabundance of saliva, and rand a hand back over his head. He was unnecessarily worrying. He knew that. Oliver was not going to run. Now he just needed the painful display of anxiety plaguing his stomach to cease and desist.
He looked around and noticed the display of sunglasses and waltz over to it. Using one finger, he propped one up after another, examining the sides of the glasses before picking up one of the first pairs he had touched. He put them on his face, looking at himself side to side before he noticed Oliver approaching him from the mirror. He turned around with a shit eating grin on his face at a combination of the sunglasses and Oliver’s comment, “Joining our crusade of outlaws another way? Becoming a thief?” he asked one brow perched as high as it could go on his forehead. “Perhaps not so soon.” he laughed taking the sunglasses off his face and then walking over to the counter, motion for Oliver to follow. Once Joe had paid, he trotted out of the store and fished out the shopping list Amy had supplied for him. “NOW we return to our quest for my dearest cook Amy.” he proclaimed, adding an exaggerated Shakespearean accent to the proclamation, as he held up the list as if it were their map to victory.
Joe stayed at the front of the store. He could see Oliver still from where he was standing, feigning glances at abundant amount of magazines. His fingers lightly brushing over the occasional magazine as if he was going to pull it out before deciding not to. Occasionally he rotated the stand, turning it from women’s health, to cooking, to travel, and then to sports. He took a deep breath, swallowing back the overabundance of saliva, and rand a hand back over his head. He was unnecessarily worrying. He knew that. Oliver was not going to run. Now he just needed the painful display of anxiety plaguing his stomach to cease and desist.
He looked around and noticed the display of sunglasses and waltz over to it. Using one finger, he propped one up after another, examining the sides of the glasses before picking up one of the first pairs he had touched. He put them on his face, looking at himself side to side before he noticed Oliver approaching him from the mirror. He turned around with a shit eating grin on his face at a combination of the sunglasses and Oliver’s comment, “Joining our crusade of outlaws another way? Becoming a thief?” he asked one brow perched as high as it could go on his forehead. “Perhaps not so soon.” he laughed taking the sunglasses off his face and then walking over to the counter, motion for Oliver to follow. Once Joe had paid, he trotted out of the store and fished out the shopping list Amy had supplied for him. “NOW we return to our quest for my dearest cook Amy.” he proclaimed, adding an exaggerated Shakespearean accent to the proclamation, as he held up the list as if it were their map to victory.
