Brynjar didn't know why it felt so hard for him to open the doors to the library. The large double doors loomed before him and though it had been 20 years Brynjar could still remember there was a small bruise on the wood by the left handle. He never found out what caused it, even though it somehow bothered him.. Surely someone in the staff would know. 20 years ago Brynjar couldn't have asked. But now he could.
It wasn't entirely true that Brynjar didn't know, why it was so hard for him to open the doors. He had just gotten back to the island after two decades, and he had returned a changed man. But the old him, the him thag had just gotten freedom for the first time in his life and was terrified of that, was still behind these doors. The ghost of Brynjar, weaker in both mind and body, still sat by those tables, still looked through the shelves of books. And the Brynjar now was afraid, that when he opened these doors the old him would come bck, and take him over. Simply a foolish thought. But such was Brynjar's psyche, and his fear uncontrollable.
But not unconquerable.
Brynjar took a breath and opened the doors, partly because he was getting bit embarrassed by just standing in front of them. And as he opened the doors a familiar scent greeted him, the scent of ink, old and new books and wood. A slight smile rose to Brynjar's face as he carefully closed the door behind him and simply took in the library, the high ceiling and rows of bookshelves and tables. There were some students reading by the tables, they looked like college students. Brynjar imagined couple of weeks from now they would see him again, and maybe nod or even say hello. In anh case, they would recognize Brynjar. He would have a place here. That thought was comforting, and made the small, constant loneliness in Brynjar's chest shrink away slightly. But it never went completely away.
As said students closest to the doors turned to briefly glance at the newcomer Brynjar nearly flinched, but not in the same way he had 20 years ago. This time Brynjar wasn't aftaid of everything. He sent a small nod to the ones looking and went on his way. Brynjar could feel some gazes follow him and he didn't blame them. Unfortunately Brynjar was slightly eye-catching with his tall, wide stature.
Brynjar slipped in between the shelves with crime mystery novels, remembering more and more things as he proceeded. How he once his behind that shelf for almost an hour just to avoid someone who barely knew him, how he once got so lost into his thoughts by that window he accidentally slipped out of his body. Well, Brynjar still did the latter now and then. He hadn't still gotten full control of his astral projection.
Brynjar arrived at his old spot, where he used to stand for hours on end, just reading bits and pieces here and there. Brynjar was pleasantly surprised by the very much grown selection of books, many which he had not read yet. Brynjar gently slipped one out of the shelf, skimmed through first few pages and deemed it to seem interesting enough to try out. Brynjar, instead of standing between the shelves, took the book with him and sat by an open window, where a gentle breeze blew in. Gentle enough so it wouldn't bother the reading. Brynjar sat down and turned to look outside for a moment. Though some large clouds could be seen on the sky and horizon it was a warm day, and Brynjar had really felt it as he was sensitive to heat. But the breeze and cooler air inside the library made him feel just cozy enough in his comfortable, clearly much worn loose jeans and white t-shirt. Some faint scars could be discerned on his biceps but the worst ones were covered by his shirt. Brynjar pulled out his reading glasses from his shoulder bag and started reading the book, hoping it had a well executed romantic subplot.
@Zora
It wasn't entirely true that Brynjar didn't know, why it was so hard for him to open the doors. He had just gotten back to the island after two decades, and he had returned a changed man. But the old him, the him thag had just gotten freedom for the first time in his life and was terrified of that, was still behind these doors. The ghost of Brynjar, weaker in both mind and body, still sat by those tables, still looked through the shelves of books. And the Brynjar now was afraid, that when he opened these doors the old him would come bck, and take him over. Simply a foolish thought. But such was Brynjar's psyche, and his fear uncontrollable.
But not unconquerable.
Brynjar took a breath and opened the doors, partly because he was getting bit embarrassed by just standing in front of them. And as he opened the doors a familiar scent greeted him, the scent of ink, old and new books and wood. A slight smile rose to Brynjar's face as he carefully closed the door behind him and simply took in the library, the high ceiling and rows of bookshelves and tables. There were some students reading by the tables, they looked like college students. Brynjar imagined couple of weeks from now they would see him again, and maybe nod or even say hello. In anh case, they would recognize Brynjar. He would have a place here. That thought was comforting, and made the small, constant loneliness in Brynjar's chest shrink away slightly. But it never went completely away.
As said students closest to the doors turned to briefly glance at the newcomer Brynjar nearly flinched, but not in the same way he had 20 years ago. This time Brynjar wasn't aftaid of everything. He sent a small nod to the ones looking and went on his way. Brynjar could feel some gazes follow him and he didn't blame them. Unfortunately Brynjar was slightly eye-catching with his tall, wide stature.
Brynjar slipped in between the shelves with crime mystery novels, remembering more and more things as he proceeded. How he once his behind that shelf for almost an hour just to avoid someone who barely knew him, how he once got so lost into his thoughts by that window he accidentally slipped out of his body. Well, Brynjar still did the latter now and then. He hadn't still gotten full control of his astral projection.
Brynjar arrived at his old spot, where he used to stand for hours on end, just reading bits and pieces here and there. Brynjar was pleasantly surprised by the very much grown selection of books, many which he had not read yet. Brynjar gently slipped one out of the shelf, skimmed through first few pages and deemed it to seem interesting enough to try out. Brynjar, instead of standing between the shelves, took the book with him and sat by an open window, where a gentle breeze blew in. Gentle enough so it wouldn't bother the reading. Brynjar sat down and turned to look outside for a moment. Though some large clouds could be seen on the sky and horizon it was a warm day, and Brynjar had really felt it as he was sensitive to heat. But the breeze and cooler air inside the library made him feel just cozy enough in his comfortable, clearly much worn loose jeans and white t-shirt. Some faint scars could be discerned on his biceps but the worst ones were covered by his shirt. Brynjar pulled out his reading glasses from his shoulder bag and started reading the book, hoping it had a well executed romantic subplot.
@Zora
