The closest thing to home I’ll have for the next few years, but that’s okay; I’ve always been good at adapting.
I’m not sure how long I’m lost in my own little world before movement catches my eye and I nearly jump out of my chair.
He stands at the far side of the table, close enough that I definitely should have heard him walk up, but I didn’t.
His skin is lightly tanned, his eyes like honey, and face clean-shaven, but even still, he looks rough, a very bad boy. Unlike everyone else, he doesn’t seem to wear the uniform, or at least not most of it. He doesn’t have a vest or blazer, only the white button-up that's rolled to his elbows, showing off tattoos on almost every bit of exposed skin, and disappearing under what looks like black leather gloves.
Maybe he doesn’t like germs?
He has one of those nose piercings I always thought was so cool, but Jordan swore was for a bull.
His hair is black and hangs down in front of his eyes, shaggy and purposefully messy, I assume.
He looks like a messy work of art.
I hadn’t gotten a good look at him earlier, only a glance, but now I feel like I can’t look away.
He’s hot as hell, but everything about him also screams stay the fuck away from me.
So why is he here?
“Oh God, is this your spot?” I stand in a rush, nearly toppling over as I clumsily begin to shove books back into my bag.
“No.” His voice is deep but smooth, and I pause, looking up at him to find his lips turned up in just a hint of a smile.
“Oh,” I say, unsure what to do now that I’ve made a fool of myself.
Maybe I should just go...
“Is this seat taken?” He points to the chair in front of him, the one directly opposite the chair I’d been in just moments ago.
I set my book back down and tuck a strand of hair that escaped my braid behind my ear as I hold his gaze.
This feels strange, and for a moment I worry he’s here to tease me or bully me in some other way. I’d never actually been bullied thanks to Jordan, but he’s not here to save me anymore, and while I’d hoped we would be too old for behavior like that, you never really know.
“Um, no.” I shake my head as I continue to stand there like a deer in headlights.
He drops into the chair and pulls out a textbook I don’t recognize before opening up the same laptop that I have and getting to work.
Well, I guess there’s nothing else to be done.
I sit, watching him for a moment, but it would appear as if he really was just looking to sit with me.
Why? I couldn’t tell you. The rest of the library was pretty dead when I was wandering around. It’s strange, but it sure beats him coming to bully me or worse, which is what I expected of him.
I cringe knowing I should probably apologize for that, but when I open my mouth, nothing comes out. Letting my mouth fall closed, the words forgotten as I let it go in favor of going back to my studies.
At least books, I understand.
I fall back into my studies, looking up to see him still sitting across from me every few minutes at first, before something settles and it feels easier, like I can breathe. He doesn’t talk, and neither do I. The only sounds are the clicks of our keys, the turning of pages, and pens that drag along the paper.
Comfort.
I don’t get nearly enough done, but after I yawn hard enough that a tear rolls down my cheek, I have no choice but to call it a night. It’s not like I was going to catch all the way up in a night anyway; I have time.
I pack up and find the handsome stranger has as well, though he doesn’t look in a hurry to leave. He catches my eye as I stand from my chair, and the golden color of his eyes is so beautiful, but also slightly familiar, though I can’t place why.
“Have a good night.” Again, his voice washes over me, and I can’t stop the pull of my lips.
