𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟑 | 𝐔.𝐊

bernard black was miserable. anyone who knew him knew that.

except, something about you made him less miserable. something about you, your sarcastic comments, your snarky grin, and your eyes.

but, he wouldn’t tell you that. even if you stumbled into his bookshop, absolutely shitfaced at 4 in the afternoon.

he frowned as he heard the door slam shut behind you. he glanced up, recognised you, and rolled his eyes.

“are you already drunk?”