Page 46 of Midnights
I slip outside and double check that the door is locked before heading down the quiet street.
There’s something oddly satisfying about being out while the world is still waking up. The usual chaos hasn’t settled in yet, and the hush of early morning feels like it belongs to just me. The hum of distant voices, the rhythmic sweep of a broom against the cobblestones, and the occasional dog barking. It’s a different kind of music; one I didn’t realize I missed.
While I'm walking, I remember the cute little café we passed on our way to the pub last night.The streets are bathed in morning light, making everything look softer. And for a moment, I wonder if I could be happy here.
I get it now. I get why my grandparents loved this place so much. The scent of pine and damp earth lingers in the air, the distinct after-rain freshness that feels like home in a way I can’t explain.
I’m admiring the architecture of a particularly charming townhouse, when I collide with someone.
“Oh! Excuse me! I'm so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going. Are you okay?” I stammer, looking up at an older gentleman.
The man chuckles, his warm, rich accent instantly soothes my nerves. “That’s quite alright, lass.” He winks. “Now, if I’d fallen, I might’ve cursed ye for knockin’ me down. Only because I’d need a crane to get back up.”
A laugh bubbles out of me despite myself. His humor is disarming, and the crinkles around his eyes deepen when he smiles.
“Ye looked miles away. Lost in thought, were ya?”
I brush a stray curl behind my ear, nodding. “Yeah… something like that.”
He hums knowingly. “Aye, happens to the best of us. This place has a way of sweepin’ people up. It calls to ye. Especially if ye’ve got old ties here.”
Something shifts in my chest, feeling like an invisible thread being pulled tight.Old ties?The way he says it makes my stomach flip.
Before I can ask what he means, he shifts the conversation smoothly, like he wasn’t just on the verge of saying something important.
“So how are you likin’ her so far?”
I chuckle, trying to shake off the strange weight of his words. “I just can’t get enough of how beautiful it is here.”
His eyes glint with something unreadable. “Oh, that she is… Scotland is indeed beautiful.” His voice is soft, yet threaded with something deeper, something I can't place. “She’s full of magic and mystery. Enjoy your stay… and be mindful of those Highlanders, lassie.”
I nearly choke. “Wait, what?” My eyes widen. “Are the men heredangerous?”
His brow furrows for a split second, but then he chuckles. “No, lass, not dangerous… justdetermined.”
Something about the way he says it makes my skin prickle.Aye.
“A beautiful woman like yourself won’t stay unclaimed for long,” he continues, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “No need to go lookin’ for him. He’ll find ye.”
His words settle over me like a whisper carried in the wind. I open my mouth to object and tell him I’mdefinitelynot looking for a man. But before I can, he nods at me with a warm smile and continues down the sidewalk, humming softly.
I exhale, rolling my eyes at the entire encounter.
I shake my head, pushing it to the back of my mind with everything else, and reach for my phone, only to come up empty.Seriously?
I could’ve sworn I grabbed it before I left.
With an annoyed sigh, I shove my hands into my hoodie. Whatever.
The café comes into view, and it's a cozy little spot with flower boxes bursting with vibrant blooms lining all the windows. It seems so inviting, like a hidden world tucked away from the rest of the street.
I push open the door and the rich aroma of fresh coffee and baked goods wraps around me. Inside, the atmosphere is calm since only a handful of people are scattered at the tables. The décor in here is charming. The rustic wood accents and the soft lighting makes it feel like the kind of place you keep a secret.
I walk toward the counter to place my order, but something in the corner catches my eye. I see a small bookshelf tucked under the window. I walk over, and there's a weathered book with its spine cracked. You can tell its pages are worn with age.
Scottish Folklore and Legends.
The title alone sends a shiver through me. Its faded cover has intricate symbols curling across the leather like vines. The moment I see it, it reminds me of the book I found after my grandpa died.
