Myungsoo merely nodded in response to the other’s questions before one forced him to verbally respond. “Fear and loathing in Las Vegas.” He lifted a gloved hand to smooth out a few nonexistent wrinkles in his tailored black coat, fluffing his white scarf a bit while his sharp eyes took in the attendant’s full form as he walked from behind the counter. The brunette was fine with the lack of speech passing between them. He didn’t like having his time wasted with mundane pleasantries. May as well be silent if you don’t have something substantial to say, was his thought on the matter.
Moving his gaze away from the stranger’s backside to the lined shelves, he paused in front of a section that was relation to the genre he was looking for and pulled out a book to study its content. Deciding to take it, he moved further down, noting the creaking floor as he stopped behind the taller male. “Well, do you have what I seek or am I wasting my time?” Myungsoo mumbled. He was never one for tact and it seemed in this case he didn’t plan on using the little he did possess. “How do you stay in business? The lack of clientele is enough to suggest that you are a forgotten gem with the sea of brighter treasures,” The younger asked; his eyes glancing over to stare at the man’s profile, not caring that it was probably too personal of a question to ask and expected the other to answer it.
He nodded once to the title name before stopping once he reached ‘Thompson’. Lifting the same finger he placed it on top of the book’s spine, flipping it out. And without a response to his question, he handed him the book. Won Bin had never himself read the book, only knowing the author by name and the titles; not content. He was on his way to walk past the other, assuming he didn’t need any more help, until the question had him stop in his tracks.
The fable couldn’t help but let a small smirk tug at one corner of his lips. Indeed, how had been in business all these decades? “By donations and regular customers.” he replied simply, his demeanour returning to his normal stoic face. “You’d be surprised.” he called while making his way back to the counter. It wasn’t a lie either. The Mayor’s office sometime pumped in a few dollars or old customers, regulars, that had noticed his shop for many years until they passed away. Then testifying money to him. All of this and the money from the books he actually sold was enough to keep him going. For now, that is.