Tessa pushed open the door of the bookshop and deposited her umbrella in the little stand next to the doorway. Somewhere between home and here the rain had turned to snow, and her dark hair was full of tiny snowflakes. It was a freezing cold day, close to Christmas, and the shops were full of people rushing about trying to find presents for their loved ones. In typical fashion, Tessa had bought all of her gifts already, and revelled in strolling leisurely about watching those less organised trying to make up for their earlier laziness. So today she wasn't looking for a gift. Well, perhaps one for herself. A few days ago, she'd been sitting on the tube reading her favourite novel, A Tale Of Two Cities, when the train had stopped suddenly and some idiot had spilled hot coffee all over her, splashing a great deal over the book, and effectively ruining it. The ink had run on several pages, blurring the words into a blue-grey smudge. She had acted as if she was fine, not wishing to make a scene. But later, when the pages had dried, she found herself feeling sad for the book. She'd never be able to read it again, and what life was that for a book? They were precious things, crafted lovingly by the author and then the binder, put so carefully together and meant to be treasured. Tessa treated her books like one would one's children. And it was with great sadness that she stowed her ruined copy of Two Cities underneath her bed (for she would never have thrown away a book, never) and decided that she would buy herself a new one, as an early Christmas present.

So she found herself there, nudging her way through the crowded shop, trying to avoid being trampled on by anxious Christmas shoppers. She knew her way around by heart- she'd been coming here for as long as she'd known how to read. Although she'd lived in London for most of her life, she only really felt at home here, amongst the shelves filled with thousands of the most beautiful words. Tessa found the section she was looking for, and having located Dickens (second row from the top), waited for the woman next to her to step out of the way before she took up her place in front of the bookshelf. She studied the titles. Three copies of David Copperfield, two of Great Expectations... She became aware of somebody else next to her who was evidently also perusing the collection of Dickens. Ah! There was only one copy of Two Cities left on the shelf. She reached for it at exactly the same moment as the person standing next to her, their fingers awkwardly closing around hers. She had reached the book first, and pulled it from the shelf, turning to face her rival.

He was, quite simply, beautiful. A young man around Tessa's age, with deep blue eyes that had a colour as soft and rich as violets. He had a pale complexion, and his hair was as pitch-dark as a winter night. He was smiling, and Tessa realised with a jolt that he had said something. 'I'm sorry?' she asked, embarrassed. That made his smile grow even broader. 'I said, it's a pity that there's only one copy. We could have compared notes.' She smiled back slightly, saying, 'So, you mean to say you haven't read it before?' He laughed. 'I have, but many years ago. I thought I'd refresh my memory.' 'Oh, good,' she replied with a glimmer of humour in her eye. 'I was thinking I should have to tell you off.' He offered his hand. 'I'm Will, by the way, Will Herondale.' She took it and smiled shyly. 'My name's- I'm Tessa. Gray.' She internally scolded herself for being so tongue-tied. He nodded slowly. 'Tessa...Tess!' He suddenly turned and rushed off. She was startled by his abrupt departure, but after a second began to walk towards the cash desk. What a strange boy.

She had just got in the line to pay for her copy of Two Cities when she felt somebody brush up behind her. Turning her head slightly she caught sight of the boy with the unruly black hair. Laughing, she exclaimed, 'You again!' He looked slightly embarrassed. 'Yes. I do apologise for what must appear to you only as stalking, but I felt like I should inform you that I am not going to be leaving empty-handed, despite you thieving the last copy of A Tale Of Two Cities.' He grinned at her feigned shock. 'Your name inspired me, you see. I'd been meaning to read this for ages anyway.' He held up the book he was holding, a slightly worn Penguin edition of Tess Of The D'Urbervilles. She laughed. 'A respectable choice, Will Herondale, although I'm not sure I want to be associated with that Tess... she's rather silly, you know.' He raised his eyebrows at that remark. 'Well, Miss Gray, I have only my first impressions of you to go on. I may be required to spend a little more time assessing your many qualities before I can make a proper comparison.' The corner of Tessa's mouth twitched, and she was about to reply when the cashier called 'Next, please!' Tessa turned to find she was, in fact, next. Smiling apologetically at Will, she moved up to take her place at the till. When she had finished paying, she turned back- but he had evidently gone. She was surprised to find herself a little disappointed.

She left the shop, having retrieved her umbrella and placed the plastic bag-wrapped book inside her handbag. She wasn't taking any chances with this one. As she walked up the street towards the tube station, she couldn't help thinking of him. She didn't think she'd ever met a boy who liked the same books as she did. Or had actually read many books, full stop. And it didn't hurt that he'd been ridiculously handsome. She found herself thinking wistfully that she wished she'd- what? Asked for his number? Invited him out for dinner? She was being stupid. Tessa wasn't brave enough for those kinds of things. And anyway, there's no way he was interested in her. He was gorgeous and intelligent and nice. And she really needed to stop thinking about him. She went inside the station, flashed her Oyster card at the barrier, and went down to the platform.

It was early evening, and the week before Christmas- which made for a packed carriage. Tessa sat with her arm wrapped around the pole by her seat as the underground train rattled along. She dozed slightly as people all around her fussed with their shopping bags and argued, talked loudly into their mobiles, or tried to look important with newspapers. Slowly the train drew to a halt, and people spilled out onto the platform. Tessa followed, still in a daydream. Due to her slow pace, she was one of the last to leave the train and so by the time she did, most of the passengers had cleared and the only people left on the platform were the last few stragglers mounting the staircase. But there was someone else, sitting on the bench. A young man, reading a book. He looked very familiar. Tessa shook her head in disbelief, walking cautiously towards him in case she was wrong. He heard the movement and looked up, his face breaking into an honest smile, one of those smiles that weren't on purpose, that just escaped from you, warm and brilliant and real. 'Will?' she said, continuing towards him. 'Is that you, Will?' He stood quickly, hastily, closing his book.

'I can't believe it!' he exclaimed. 'Really, it would seem you're the one stalking me now, Miss Gray.' She laughed, and pushing down the nervous feeling bubbling up in her stomach, asked, 'I don't suppose you have somewhere to be right now, do you?' A tense second or two passed for Tessa as she looked at him hopefully. She had never done anything like this in her life. He looked down, pulling his phone out of his pocket and said with a sigh, 'I'm supposed to be meeting my friend, James. But he is late, and I am sure he won't begrudge me a cup of tea and a lengthy discussion of Dickens.' He grinned at her. 'That is, if the idea suits.' Tessa felt herself smile back. 'I'm sure he won't.' They started to walk, then, together, the snow falling around them like a private curtain, the sky just beginning to turn itself to night.