Got it! Let's adjust the tone and pacing.
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The rain had come again.
Not a storm—just a lazy drizzle, the kind that made the bookstore feel more like a cocoon than a shop. Raine was adjusting a leaning stack of secondhand novels when the bell jingled. She didn't look up at first. She already knew who it was.
Seraphina.
"Back again?" Raine asked, not teasing. Just... stating a fact.
"I'm starting to think this place has better air than my apartment," Seraphina said, brushing a few damp strands of hair out of her face. "Also, the lighting's better. Or maybe it's the owner."
Raine's lips twitched, but she didn't let it become a smile. "Flattery won't get you discounts."
"Worth a shot."
She wandered into the music section again. Always the music. She didn't even pretend to browse other shelves anymore. Raine watched from the counter as Seraphina picked up a book she'd already leafed through the last time. Something about her looked more relaxed today. Or maybe more settled.
They spent the next hour in companionable silence. Raine returned to her usual rhythm—checking the register, reorganizing a lopsided display. She caught Seraphina humming faintly once, just under her breath. It wasn't a melody Raine recognized, but it had the same quiet ache that lived in the walls of the store.
As the light outside shifted toward early evening, Seraphina drifted closer to the counter, holding a small paperback with worn edges.
"I want to buy this," she said, tapping the cover. "But only if you promise not to judge my taste."
"No promises," Raine replied, scanning the book. "You're the one who keeps buying old romance novels with questionable titles."
"They're comforting," Seraphina said, almost defensively. "And not all of us are brave enough to read poetry out loud, you know."
That caught Raine off guard. "I never said I was brave."
"No," Seraphina said, softer now. "But you stay. In this place. With all these words... and memories. That takes something."
Raine didn't answer right away. She handed back the book and the receipt without meeting her eyes.
"I don't think staying is always brave," she finally said. "Sometimes it's just... all that's left."
Seraphina didn't push. She just nodded, then glanced at the wall behind Raine—the one where Celeste's old microphone still hung, half-hidden behind a shelf of forgotten vinyls.
"Did she sing here?" Seraphina asked.
Raine didn't have to ask who.
"Once," she said. "Just once."
There was no follow-up question. No long silence. Just a shared understanding.
Seraphina tucked the book into her bag, pulled her hoodie sleeves over her fingers, and gave Raine a small, quiet smile.
"See you soon?" she asked.
Raine nodded.
As the door closed behind her, Raine let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She turned to the shelf where Celeste's microphone hung, eyes lingering there for a moment longer than usual.
The bookstore didn't feel heavier that day.
It just felt... different.
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