Bibliophiles

Title: Bibliophiles

Synopsis: Someone at work gives Harriet a new book to read.

Tags: md / mf / mc

***

Right after taking a refreshing shower, Harriet hopped on to her bed then stretched and twisted until her spine clicked in all the right places. She sighed in satisfaction then hugged a pillow and curled up. Her long hair, still shiny from bath, spread out on the bedsheets. Once she felt well rested enough, she propped up two pillows on the headboard and leaned on them. With the book from the nightstand in her hands, she bent her knees and placed a pillow under them. Now that she was surrounded by softness, she was ready to read.

Friends and family used to nag her about how she spent her Friday nights like this. She should be out there with other people, "living life to the fullest" instead of being "sad and alone". But she was staunch in sticking to what she liked. After working all week, she knew she was too drained to enjoy the company of others. Besides, she wasn't a recluse. Every now and then, she did go out on a Saturday or Sunday as long as the book didn't grip her for the weekend. Parties and dinners were fine with her as long as she was given time to recharge.

She examined the outside of the book before opening it, looking at the details of the cover illustration and skimming the synopsis at the back. She let herself feel giddy when she remembered him giving it to her a few hours ago.

He was obviously nervous when he approached her and had trouble meeting her eyes. "I heard you're looking for a new book," he said right before fumbling for it in his bag.

She smiled and took the book when he handed it to her. "Thanks, Will. Now I don't have to stop by the bookstore on the way home."

He was a shy-but-not-creepy type of guy, but her hairs stood on end when he gave her a forced smile. "You're welcome," he said.

"So, is this the kind of book I won't be able to put it down?" she asked, trying to diffuse his anxiety.

"Oh, I hope so," he said after a nervous laugh that could have put him in the creepy classification.

But at the end of the day, she guessed that he was just nervous. After finishing the book, she'd have a better idea of who he was. She opened the book and skimmed past the copyright warning, blurbs, advertisements and table of contents. Dust flew out of the pages when she flipped them, causing her to sneeze. Weird, the book didn't look that old. Did he happen to keep his flour on the same shelf as his books? She sneezed again and her eyes watered. For awhile, she considered getting up from her comfortable position to get a handkerchief and maybe even the vacuum cleaner. But when her sinuses stopped complaining, she shrugged it off and turned to chapter one.

Despite the dust, it didn't take long for her to lose herself in the story. A strange planet. Star-crossed lovers. A sympathetic antagonist. She was so into it that she didn't blink when she came across a strange set of words.

The words were written on top of the original text in what seemed to be green highlighter ink. The glow of the ink drew the attention of her eyes and she focused on them instead of the plain black text.

HARRIET READS THESE WORDS, said the clean and straight handwritten text. The sentence was followed by an identical copy and she read that as well. It repeated until she reached the end of the page. Fingertips white with powder turned the page and wide dilated pupils absorbed the continuation. She breathed deep and her lungs felt a minty coolness when she took in more of the dust. HARRIET READS THESE WORDS. She imagined herself reading the words. It wasn't hard.

After a chapter's worth of repetition, the words changed. HARRIET SAYS THESE WORDS. She imagined herself saying them out loud. "Harriet says these words," she said. Did she just say it out loud or was that in the story? She wasn't sure. "Harriet says these words. Harriet-" She turned a page, "says these words."

The story progressed. "The words make Harriet happy. The words make Harriet happy." She smiled. The story was simple but she enjoyed it for some reason. She turned the page with anticipation. "The words make Harriet happy." She felt the euphoria of drunkenness but lost none of her focus. The story was so vivid in her mind as if it was actually there.

Then came the twist. "Harriet is interested in William. She wants to invite him over." The new words brought her close to snapping out of her trance. "What?" she said since she was used to speaking her thoughts aloud. "Why should Harriet be interested in him?" By instinct, she repeated the thought over and over again. "Why should Harriet be interested in him?"

By now, her pupils had stretched so much that there was barely any brown in her iris. Black and white eyes stared blankly at the book as she repeated the question to herself. The answer came to her after a minute of repetition. "The words make Harriet happy. The words are in the book and William gave the book to Harriet." The light headed drunken feeling returned right after she asserted her own happiness. She repeated the revelation until everything made sense before continuing with her reading. "Harriet is interested in William. She wants to invite him over. Harriet is interested in William. She wants to invite him over."

More pages flew by and she paused again when new words came. "Harriet will always be truthful to William. She will never hurt him." She looked up at the ceiling and let her head hang limp as she thought out loud, "But Harriet has secrets and he can hurt her with them. If Harriet can't hurt him back, she can't stop him."

She focused on a dark spot on the ceiling while she repeated the argument to herself a few times. When the solution came to her, she moved her head forward again so she could read the book. The sudden movement made her feel like her head was spinning and she giggled at the sensation. The laughter made her arguments easier to believe. "The words make Harriet happy. William gave the book to Harriet so he makes her happy. Happy Harriet is not hurt so she can be truthful to him."

The logic of it was so long and the spinning feeling made it hard to grasp. She tripped on the words and slurred them the first few times she repeated it. "The words make Harriet happy and William is the words?" She giggled and started over. "The words make Harriet happy and William makes Harriet happy and-" She shook her head, making it feel light again. "The words make Harriet happy..."

But soon, she got the hang of it. When she was satisfied, she continued reading the book until she reached the epilogue.

"Harriet will sleep now." At this point, she felt sleepy enough that it came naturally to her. She yawned, her wide eyes finally half closing. "Harriet. Will. Sleep." She lay on her side and closed her eyes with the book still in her hand and right in front of her face. She inhaled its scent with every breath until she slept.

***

William stood outside her door, grinding two fingernails together. He couldn't stop worrying. Did she remember what she read in the book? What if it didn't work and she called him here to confront him about it? Her friends might be waiting inside to beat him up. What if the book damaged her and made her insane? She might kidnap him so she could keep him forever. What if...

He shook his head and rang the doorbell before the cloud of worry thickened. He knew himself well enough to know that logically answering each of his fears was fruitless. More would always pop up and the best way to deal with them was act immediately and replace them with a new set of worries that haven't had time to grow.

His mind stretched out the seconds while he waited for her. He added more pressure to the fingernails that rubbed on one another, but that failed to speed up the time. When the door finally opened, his heart stopped and jumped up his throat. The only thing that filled his mind was that she was so pretty and that she was dressed casually in a skirt that was reached above her knees. His mind tried to analyze those two details, wondering whether one of his worries came true.

Her face was so expressive that he didn't know what it was expressing. He looked down to avoid her gaze and saw that she was wearing flats that matched her dress. Damn, why did she look pretty down there too?

"Hi Will, glad you could come!" said Harriet.

"Um," said William. He looked up and made eye contact. At that point, fight or flight kicked in and, thankfully, his psyche chose to fight this time. "I was free anyway," he said. "Thanks for the invite." He internally cursed at himself for sounding so stupid.

"Well, come on in. The order's here," she said as if nothing was wrong, as if he hadn't made a fool of himself yet again.

"So, how was the book?" he asked while he followed her to the dining table. He noted that her apartment was smaller than average and tried to discern as much implications as he could from the observation. Did it mean she wasn't looking for a relationship? Was she in financial trouble? Maybe she didn't care because she always escaped into her books.

"I only finished the first three chapters since I was sleepy last night," she said. "Don't worry. I enjoyed it. I can't wait to read the rest."

"Was it, uh, weird or anything?"

She stopped in her tracks and looked at him with worry in her eyes. "It's funny that you should ask. I feel strange, as if there's something off that I can't quite grasp."

It was a truthful answer, one that she would never had confided with him if the book hadn't worked. William felt chills as the repercussions filled his mind and he just stood there, awkward with nothing to say.

She shrugged at his silence and said, "Well, the right story at the right time does that to people. I guess it was just the right time for me."

He should asked her for details. He should have shared one of his own experiences when a story had resonated with him and left him stunned. Instead, he just froze up and said, "yep." He cursed at himself once again for the lame answer.

She lead him to the kitchen table and started unwrapping the burritos she ordered for them. While she was busy getting glasses for the drinks, he sat down and hung his bag on the chair. The contents of the special book inside made it seem heavier that it was. He hoped he didn't have to use it.

"Here's yours," she said while handing him a burrito and taking a seat. "So, what do you usually read?"

He picked at the wrapper and gave another lame answer which set the tone for the rest of the dinner. As minutes passed, it didn't improve. He was too nervous to think of anything worth saying. He knew that she was chafing at his ineptitude, that she wanted him to leave. She just didn't show it because she was programmed to never hurt him. But the fact that she was enduring him still made him feel terrible. He bit his tongue to punish himself.

When the meal was finished, he knew for a fact that he was too broken and too fucked up inside to enjoy her company or make her enjoy his. Even after he programmed her to made her safe for him, he was a still a nervous wreck.

He needed to use the second book.

"You know," he said, "I think you should, um, read the prequel before finishing the one I gave you."

"Really? I usually prefer to follow the publication order."

"Nah, this is better," he said. He turned around and took the book out of the bag, careful to hold his breath so he wouldn't breathe in too much of the powder.

He handed it to her and she inspected it. "What's with the dust?" she asked.

He laughed nervously. "I'm a bad cleaner." Damn, that was he best reply he had all night. "Just read the first few chapters and see if you like them."

"Sure, I'll do that before turning in later. You don't mind if I keep both books for awhile, right?"

"No, read this one now. I insist." Then, inspiration struck. "You'll hurt my feelings if you don't."

"Fine. Fine," she said, not wanting to displease him.

She opened the book, sneezed at the powder and started reading. He watched her eyes move back and forth. After some time, her expression went blank and her pupils dilated. Then, she spoke.

***

"Harriet says these words," said Harriet, lost in the book. "The words make her happy."

There was someone moving in front of her but it was more important to read the words. She continued reading, aware that she was being watched. The first few pages were a synopsis of the first book. They were the exact same words and she felt comfort in their familiarity as she said them out loud.

But like last night, she hesitated when she reached something new. "Harriet obeys William." She looked up from the book and placed her gaze on William. She registered fear on his face but it didn't mean anything to her. "Why should Harriet obey you?" she asked. He opened his mouth to speak but she repeated the question before a sound could escape. "Why should Harriet obey you?"

When she continued repeating it, the fear on his face faded. Then, he said, "because obeying makes you happy."

"Because obeying makes me happy?" She said back at him. She tilted her head slightly and a few strands of hair fell in front of her face. "Because obeying makes me happy?" She looped again and again until she linked it to what the words said. "The words make me happy. I am happy because I obey the words. You gave the book, so I obey you."

She saw him breathe out a sigh of relief while she repeated the justification. When she was satisfied with how it sounded, she looked back to the book and proceeded to saying the written words out loud. "Harriet obeys William. Harriet obeys William." The beans in her stomach made her burp in the middle of a sentence, but she continued as if nothing happened.

Another phrase made her stop. "Harriet wants William to be happy." She looked at William again and stared in silence. She didn't feel confused or skeptical. In fact, she pitied him and the altruistic part of her really did want him to be happy. She looked back at the words and repeated them without any hesitation. "Harriet wants William to be happy. Harriet wants William to be happy."

She had repeated the sentence for a few paragraphs when he spoke and interrupted her, "Harriet, wait."

She looked at him and completed the sentence she was reading. "...to be happy." Then, with a childlike smile, she said, "I want you to be happy."

"This is wrong," he said. "We should stop."

"But the words make Harriet happy," she said. "The words make Harriet happy. The words-" She shook her head when she suddenly felt a bit of fear. The movement sent more hair to the front of her face, tickling her nose. "Why?" she asked aloud to both of them. "Why? Why? Why?"

The looked at each other, each one waiting for a reaction as she repeated the question.

"No," he said in a desperate whisper. The fear in his voice matched what she felt. "No. Keep reading. The words make Harriet happy."

"The words make Harriet happy?" she asked. She didn't continue reading.

She watched him warily as he stood up and walked slowly to her as if sudden movement would scare her away.

"The words make Harriet happy," he said. Then, he lifted the book closer to her face. She didn't want to let go of the book, so she kept her hands on it and held it there in front of her face.

Worries faded away when she breathed in its scent. "Words. Harriet. Happy," she murmured. She placed her nose to the page and inhaled. "The words make Harriet happy."

After some time, she brought the book back down so she could read it. White dust had smudged on her face. Her iris was completely black like the eyes of a stuffed toy and the whites of her eyes were crossed with red. "Harriet wants William to be happy," she read out loud with a smile.

She read and read until the next new sentence. "Harriet is not shy with William about anything, even her body."

When she looked up from the book, he was ready with an answer and spoke before she could ask anything. "It makes me happy when you're not shy with me. You want to make me happy," he said.

He looked like he was in pain, but she nodded in agreement and repeated with her own interpretation. "Harriet makes William happy by not being shy with him." She repeated his words a few times before continuing with the ones from the book.

By now, her back and butt ached from sitting in the same position for hours. Her eyes were strained from their extra sensitivity to light. Still, she faithfully continued reading the book.

"Harriet will take the initiative to make William happy." She looked up and saw that he had dozed off. But it was okay because she knew exactly what to say. "Harriet must make William happy because he cannot."

By the time he woke, she was already finished with her justification and had advanced to reading the words in the book out loud.

Finally, she arrived at the ending. "Harriet will sleep now." She yawned and slouched down toward the table. "Harriet will sleep now," she repeated as she closed the book and used it as a pillow. "Sleep. Now," she whispered. After one deep breath, she fell asleep.

***

William watched her sleep on her bed. Bringing her there wasn't easy. She was slim, but he was too scrawny to carry her. In the end, it took some applied physics to move her. Touching her was the hard part. He wanted to be as gentle as possible and didn't want to violate her intimate places even if he had programmed her not to mind.

The trouble was worth it. Seeing her at peace somehow calmed him down. It helped him cope at the remorse that gnawed at him.

He dozed off every now and then but he made sure he was uncomfortable enough so he didn't doze too long. It was unsatisfying sleep and he felt completely exhausted. Later, when she started to stir, a jolt of adrenaline woke him up better than any amount cup of coffee could.

"Something happened last night." she said to him while she rubbed an eye.

Her disheveled look and the childish way she moved made his thoughts stumble. "After dinner, I made you read a book and... And I..." Half of him wanted to lie and the other half wanted to tell the truth. Both halves took control of his tongue at the same time and he gave himself another round of internal punishment.

She brushed the hair out of her face and smiled at him. "You changed me with the book," she said with certainty. "I didn't notice the first time but now, I feel altered. The rest of my memories don't mesh with the present."

"I had to do it," he said. Then, by some combination of adrenaline, confrontation, guilt and fatigue, he found the strength to say the speech he had prepared in his moments of wakefulness. "I was always alone and couldn't do anything about it. Trying not to be alone always punished me with anxiety and punished someone else with boredom. I ended up trying to freeze my heart, to make myself not need others. It almost worked until I met you. I barely knew you, but the very fact that you existed thawed all my efforts. Loneliness started hurting me again and I couldn't do anything about it except for this. You need to understand, I tried and ran away at every opportunity. Valentines, Christmas, your birthday. I had to do this or I would have ended it another way. I would have..." He couldn't complete the sentence so his hands made a gesture instead.

"It's okay," she said. "I'm not upset. Really! I'll even admit that I was a bit interested in you before all of this."

"A bit?"

"Honestly, yeah. Just a little."

He smiled anyway then remained silent, not knowing where to begin. He had already expended all his energy on that clumsy, ill-timed speech.

"Wanna touch my boobs?" she asked suddenly.

"What?!"

She laughed. "Oh come on, we're being too solemn here. There'll be a lot of time later to talk about ourselves at a deeper level, but the mood's not light enough for it. Besides, we'll get to my boobs eventually and I know you want to."