My phone buzzes persistently in the pocket of my grease-stained apron. Layla and I grab a milkshake shove two straws through the perfect swirl of cream on top and settle into one of the back booths for our first break of the day. Seeing as it's the first few days of Christmas break there's a vast range of hungover teenagers, big families and college students returning home meaning-the diner's packed... no room at the frigging inn.

My phone buzzes again worrying me slightly, it's been going off for the past ten minutes. I slip it out and already I can see the group chat with the guys and girls blowing up- their notifications freezing my lock screen. I chuckle to myself making a mental note to check it later when I have more time to understand what on earth Bradys waffling on about. However my eyes land on the second row of notifications- all texts from Blaze.

I'm bored

Yo Blondie what r u doing today

What the fuck is Brady going on about?

Shit sorry, ur probs at work nvm

I smile at the messages and type out a reply quickly.

Hey sorry I was working! What's up?

when do your shift finish?

4:30 why?

r u busy after...

Yeah, having tea w the queen soz ;)

Well fuck have fun :/

Can I pick you up after your tea?

I smile brightly, my heart fluttering.

Yeah, I'd like that. I'll save you a scone :)

Actually I do need to pick up some new pointe shoes downtown if that's okay?

Ofc

"What are you smiling at?" Layla nudges my arm sucking on her striped straw, her eyebrows creased at me.

"Nothing." I slide my phone back into my front pocket. Layla's eyes narrow her red lipstick making her eyes seem darker than normal.

"I know that smile Atlas Grove... who is he?" She slurps on the milkshake and I do the same trying to hide my flaming cheeks, it's a bit hard to do though considering my ponytails up tight enabling its usual ability to fall across my face and create my own hiding place.

"He is a friend," I mutter into the glass. I can feel her smirking at me but the less I give her the less she has to go on, she'd never frigging drop it.

"Oh my gosh!" She squeals scaring me slightly, "Is it the guy that was here before... the really hot one?"

The liquid in the cool glass has suddenly become the most interesting thing in the world, I stare at it intently like I'm trying to break the world record for the longest time to stare at a milkshake.

"It is!" Suddenly she wraps her arms around me and squeezes, "Oh my god Atty I'm so proud of you." She gushes probably praising herself in the process. She's spent years trying to convince me to make friends, "I feel like such a proud momma... my baby's all grown up!" She cups my face with her cool hands and squeals even louder. I try and look around to see if she's drawing much-unwanted attention but her grips too tight.

"Lay calm down, we're just friends." I nod very slowly prolonging the syllables.

"Friends shmends... friends don't smile like that at texts." She raises one of her eyebrows and drops her grip, going back to spooning the remainder of the cream out of the glass leaving me to think...

The lady fitting my shoe prods around my angles and arches as I try and stay really still so she can make sure they fit perfectly, they haven't been broken in yet and I need to crush the box so they're a bit painful to be on pointe in right now.

"I'm almost done, love..." She mutters from bellow, "When was the last time you had your feet fitted?" She asks prodding at the shoe some more. She's a lovely woman who totally gives off retired dance teacher vibes with her pepper grey hair in a bun on the bottom of her head and her pale wrap around cardigan. She owns this little ballet boutique right far downtown, I'd found it when I was looking on the internet for new shoes and decided I might as well get fitted since my feet have done some growing and changing in the last few years.

"Uh... probably about five years ago..." I think back to the last time I'd had my feet fitted, it was my last year at the academy.

"Have you been dancing in the same shoes for the last five years?" She jolts upright with a frown, a very disapproving frown.

"No... I stopped a little while ago... uh I've just started again and my old ones are in tatters." I point to the heavily worn pair I'd been managing on for the last few months. She nods curiously but goes back to fiddling with the new pair she was fitting.

"Your posture is incredible... you have the perfect feet for a dancer..." She mutters from the floor, I blush not knowing what to say... saying I'd been lucky enough to get my momma's feet is a weird-ass thing. I catch Blaze grinning from the tiny stool he sat on next to us. It looks like any minute now the tiny child-like legs are going to snap and he's going to crash to the floor. "I've never had anyone stay on pointe for as long as you have without complaining." She chuckles now with a needle and thread in her hands, "How long have you been dancing for again?"

"A few months." I chew on my bottom lip, she looks at me slightly stunned then at Blaze who is still smiling, it's slight but friendly. I wobble a bit feeling the pressure on my feet a lot now, Blaze is suddenly next to me holding out his leather-clad arm. I hold onto it with one hand to stabilise myself and give him a thankful smile.

"You have some crazy talent... to come back to dance after so many years and just have this kind of perfection again after a few months..." She sits back on her heels and gestures for me to plant my feet firmly back on the ground, "Don't let that go to waste!" She smiles getting to her feet.

I don't plan to anymore.

"I had a lot of training when I was younger," I say simply, plonking down on a bench next to the pink coloured child stool Blaze was sat on.

"They're a perfect fit, I'll be at the counter when you guys are done." She nods at us before scurrying back behind a curtain that leads to the front of the shop. I start untying one of the ribbons and Blaze drops down to his knee to do the other one.

"Thanks...and thanks for bringing me here, it would have taken frigging hours by bus." I pull off one of the shoes and place it down with a harsh thud on the wooden bench.

"No problem Blondie, we can't have a ballet extraordinaire such as yourself riding public transport can we?" He turns his nose up mockingly and I thump him on the back with the pointe shoe.

"Oww!" He winces rubbing his back, "They could do some damage!" He says inspecting the end of the toe box before we take them to the counter to pay.

The nice shop owner places them in a bowed box for me and presses some buttons on the till, "Say, are you taking lessons at the moment, my dear?" She asks and I shake my head in response.

"No uh... I'm just trying to uh-" How the hell do you say I can't because I'm skint without sounding like a money grabber.

'I see." She stops me with a kind smile, "Are you planning on going to college?" She leans on the glass counter that has shelves of signed memorabilia, I spent a good few minutes inspecting it when we came in. There's a set of pointe shoes from Alicia Alonso, only one of the greatest ballet dancers of all time.

I nod, "Julliard..." I mumble. Her face lights up and she springs into an upright position fumbling around behind the counter. She eventually picks up a tiny business card and hands it to me.

"She's a good friend of mine... tell her Judy sent you." She sends me a small wink as I look over the dance teachers card, an address and phone number are listed in cursive under a pair of sketched pointe shoes.

"Hey," Blaze says peering over my shoulder, "My younger sister's being taught by her." He nods at the woman who simply smiles back. I place the card in my pocket and thank her but she grabs my hand as I go to leave,

"No thank you, Miss Grove... dance is a dying art in this town... good luck with Julliard." She says before turning to Blaze, "And it was nice to meet you, Mr Beckett." He looks at her puzzled... I only introduced him as Blaze and he didn't say much. She shakes her head like were dumb, "Everyone knows who you are, my grandsons a big fan, by the way, he goes to your games." Blaze looks slightly stunned and a little speechless which is weird to see. " You two make a lovely couple." She says finally before disappearing into the back room again.

"We're not uh-" I go to say but she's already gone leaving my cheeks burning.

Hold on how... did she know my last name...? I'm not known around here, I never told her my last name?! I want to ask her but Blaze is already leading me out of the shop into the cold Atlanta air. The sky is already dark since it's nearing on about six o'clock now and the stars are hidden behind the grey clouds that fog the night. The streets are quiet down this part of town since it's mainly full of old shops and cafes, nearing Christmas people are probably in town doing their last-minute shopping.

"How did she-" I start floundered trying to figure out if I did tell her my name.

"How did she what?"

"Well, she knew my last name?" I ponder, Blaze frowns at me like I'm mad and I take few seconds to admire the stream of moonlight reflecting in his icy eyes, they look sparkly in the rays peeking through the foggy clouds, "I didn't tell her my last name... did I?" He shrugs.

'You probably did, you just forgot." He says nonchalantly and I think for a second longer... he's right maybe I did... I probably did...

We walk down a cobbled road watching our breath fly in front of our faces and disperse into the universe when either one of us speaks. As much as I love spending time with the girls and the group I love this even more. Just spending time with Blaze alone, he looks happier, more relaxed and I love getting to know more about him.

"Black isn't a colour!" I argue at his poor attempt to tell me what his favourite colour is.

" Yes, it is! It's counted as a colour on so many things like when you shop online you can filter the colour to be black!" He argues grinning.

"It's a frigging shade!" I say back, I'll text Vixxie later to confirm since she's the arty one of the group. Blaze lets out a louder laugh, one I'm not sure has to do with his favourite colour.. or rather shade.

"What?" I ask worriedly. He shakes his head with a bigger grin.

"Frigging. I find your lack of cursing amusing blondie." He mutters.

"What's wrong with that?! Just because I don't swear like a sodding sailer." I wiggle my brows at him and shove a finger into his hard arm, he shrugs innocently like he's some kind of angel.

'Oh, I forgot to ask- How was tea with the Queen?" His eyebrows shoot to the top of his head, "You did save me a scone right?" I give him a small shove and shake my head, I managed to peel back his playful more humorous side a few months ago and it's become one of my favourite layers to Blaze Beckett.

We carry on down the small windy road still arguing about relatively pointless things like who's the better Avenger or his lack of favourite film- everyone has a favourite film! Until, I see this pokey little shop with a glass-windowed storefront. 'The Book Attic' painted gold on a forest green background sits on top of the dusty windows books overcrowd. The paint is peeling off the woodwork and the lettering looks very weather-worn but the little shop that's said to be established in 1899 looks beautiful and intriguing.

"Can we go in there?" I stop and turn to Blaze, pointing and the tiny book store. He nods and follows me to the splintering door. I push it open with a small swoosh listening to the old fashioned bell ring above the door frame. The heat hits my legs along with that old book, musty kind of smell, it felt warm and homely bringing a smile to my face. Rows upon rows and shelves upon shelves of books fill the once small book store. It feels like a tardis, small from the outside but massive on the inside, I can't see where the books end. Even Blaze looks besotted with what's in front of him. His rosy cheeks courteous of the outside weather outside lift to his bright eyes.

"Oh hello," An elderly man with a white bushy beard and red-rimmed glasses pops up behind the counter that's hidden under piles of more old books.

"Hi," I greet back offering him a small wave, the closer you look the more this man resembles Santa Clause, a much slimmer one however and one that wears plaid shirts.

"Can I help you, kids?" He looks sceptical but still offers us a warm smile.

"We're just looking," I reply but this only brings him more confusion. He scowls at us, I'm sure it's unintentional but it's unnerving. I feel Blaze's presence behind me as he steps forward almost touching my back, "Is that okay..." I ask, the man quickly stands up from his slouched position and replaces his smile.

"Sorry kids, of course, it is... I was just a bit shocked. We don't get many people in here anymore, especially not kids your age. It's become more of my personal library!" He lets out a sad chuckle and my heart aches, it pains me that books are dying out, especially gorgeous ones like these.

"Why? This place is beautiful!" I gesture at the shelves and his eyes brighten following my hand.

"Thank you, dear, books just aren't as popular as these modern phone video games I suppose," He sighs and runs his hand across a printed book cover on the counter in front of him, a sad silence hangs in the air. "Anyway! Please let me know if you need anything, I'll be around somewhere." Blaze and I nod our heads and wait for him to slug away from the counter into the pond of the books before we start our own adventure wandering very slowly around the store.

I admire the quality of these books, a lot of them are old antique looking like they should belong in a museum.

"Isn't it just beautiful?" I murmur running my fingers down the spine of an encyclopedia from years and years ago. Blaze shrugs but carefully picks out a book, he turns it over to read the blurb and places it back, "Come on, books are magical! You can get lost in different worlds, escape and live in a world of fantasy!" I gush quickly turning bright red when Blaze breaks into a deep grin, my hair falls in front of my face hiding my embarrassment.

"When I was younger," Blaze lets out a huff of breath and his fingertips place the fallen bits of hair I consider to be an embarrassment shield behind my ears, his thumbs just lightly brushing my cheeks. My legs wobble as I try and hide a smile from breaking through, "My nana used to take me to this little book store in New York, every Saturday we'd go. She was friends with the owner and whilst she'd natter away I'd bury myself in a different Roahl Dahl book each week." He looks back at the bookshelf and now I can see a tiny wincey bit of blush spreading across his nose. It makes me feel bubbly, it's the cutest thing I've heard leave Blazes mouth. "I was a bit of a bookworm growing up... that's why I like English Lit I suppose," I remember back to the heated argument we'd had about The Great Gatsby and smile to myself, I can just picture a miniature Blaze minus the tattoos sat reading an annotated copy over and over.

"My momma was the same, we used to go out and find new books together," My insides squeeze suffocating me slightly, I turn on my heel and quicken down a row of books to stop the tears spilling from my eyes. I turn a corner and find a small set of wooden stairs to what looks like an open attic.

"Come one," Blaze says in my ear, the hairs on my neck standing up. I hadn't realised he was that close when I walked away but I guess he has much taller legs than me.

"I don't know if we're allowed..." I look around for the old man but I can't see him... this might be his private space?

Blaze shrugs and starts to climb the stairs, "Blaze! We can't! Blaze!" I whisper shout but he's already reached the top- danm his incredibly long legs.

"Come on Butterfly, you'll love it up here." He calls back down. I take one last look around and climb up the stairs sheepishly.

I reach the top about to reprimand Blaze but my eyes are busy trying to take in what they see. Blaze has settled himself onto an emerald, old fashioned velvet couch at the far end of the attic. Surrounding him are a few bookshelves full of classics and above him is a round glass window that looks out over the other cobblestone streets. Little fairy lights hang from the ceiling providing a warm gold over the space, the floorboards moan quietly as I walk over to Blaze, a smug smile on his lips.

"Wow... this is so beautiful." I walk over to the classics shelf and run my fingers over some of Shakespeare plays. I stop when I see an original looking copy of The Great Gatsby, the dark blue spine prominent on the shelf. I pull it out carefully and hold it out to Blaze, the corner of his lips lift a little and he pats the space on the couch next to him.

I plonk down and open the cover listening to the crackling sound of the spine. "How weird is this." I raise my eyebrows at him and place it into his hands, "You should take it to read on the plane to New York, rethink your argument." I grin but I feel him tense beside me, "Do you... uh... do you not want to go back to New York?" I ask quietly, I don't want to upset him as I had on the way to the game the other night but I want him to be able to talk about It.

Blaze says nothing, just flips through the pages quietly, inspecting each one thoroughly. I watch as his inked fingers run up and down the text.

"I don't." He finally says, turning a page.

"Why not?"