#pip with dark undertones that will be reaveled later in the oneshot

[thekiltongrammarwriter]

A bit of stalker pip for my readers as a thanks for the undoubted patience📚

We know what we are, but not what we may be (sneak peek)

It was a harmless act...at least that's what Pip told herself. Everyday at noon day when Little Kilton's sun would drip bellow the clouds and People would rush out to and from, their busy soulless feet gliding on the dusty cobblestone streets Pip would sit and watch the noon bus. A cup of steaming hot tea in front of her, though she would never drink it. Could only bring herself to wrap her cold aching fingers against the warm rim.

The strangers would clamber of the bus, sobbing snot filled children, grumbling men, whiny teens, all in various amounts. And then you would come in focus. Moving off the bus, stopping with that bright earth shattering smile and paying an extra half pound for charity. You and your bloody red raincoat with a black beret. The first time pip had saw you she swore she looked like a love sick gobsmacked teenager.

You were a delight. With your beautiful features and even more beautiful personality. Pip found herself entranced. It had such been a long while since she had seen something worthy of beauty. You radiated light. The light that had been missing from her for months. Perhaps years.

You always frequented that bus. Took it from Whitfoshire. A coastal town a few miles away. Where the sea shone and on weekends fish shops would be filled to the brim with hardworking families eager for a taste of the majestic sea. Pip had quickly shook her head once she had noticed her gaze hadn't left your form, even as you walked down the pavement, down the rows of shops and autumn leaves. Looking like you belonged here than anywhere else.

Pip could feel a blush adorn her cheeks, turning them into her own personal shade of rouge. She felt sheepish as she stood up from the coffee shop chairs. Her mind felt fuzzy and weighted. Her eyes roaming over your frame, taking in your soft pale hands, the slender shape of your fingers as you pulled the wooden door open to the Book Cellar. The shop that Harry Scythe worked at. Harry scythe whose mother Mary scythe worked alongside Stanley Forbes at the Kilton mail, Mary scythe who on the day of Stanley's funeral had stood on the outskirts of the cemetery holding a sign and shouting—

Pip's breathing choked, a feeling of pain and discomfort filling her veins.

She blinked, a few times to wash away the unsettled tears that threatened to slip past.

Her eyes caught yours through the see through window, you were holding a leather book in your hands, fingers skimming over the leather like a prize.

And pip for a second wished she could be the leather bound book. To be held so tightly and treasured. It was an odd thought, one that made her heart race.

The coffee shop was only a street away. A few strides and she could go in. See you up close. Feel your sparkling bright kind personality. You must have caught her staring, or felt some pair of eyes on you because suddenly your eyes were flitting from the leather bound book in your fingers to the latticed shop window and as soon as your eyes locked with Pip's across the street you smiled.

It was a just a smile. A simple greeting, not even a greeting, a formality at best. Pip convinced herself.

You were British for goodness sake a smile was a cordial expression.

So why did it feel like Pip could finally breathe? Your lips were wide and pink as they lifted, your beret only adding to your allure.

Your eyes seemed to stay on Pip for a moment, your tongue peeking out of your lips like you were analyzing her. Taking her in. But soon your eyes were gone as the person at the till spoke to you, and pip watched as you walked across the wooden bookshop. Following your movements through the window.

And suddenly, before she could stop herself, or reason with her logical mind she was striding across the small English street and into the bookshop. The sound of the bell entering her mind. Echoing through the recesses of her brain.