Page 4 of At The End There Was You

More sounds of crows and cicadas rang between them.

“I gathered,” he said drily.

“Will you turn me into a cockroach?”

He blinked a total of once. “Can they also read in this Sanctum?”

“I don’t believe so.”

“Then no, Winter, I will not turn you into a cockroach.”

“I was joking, you know.”

“I wasn’t.” He stared at her until she squirmed under the attention. “I presume you have another question.”

“You presume right,” she said, and then eagerly leaned forward. “Why did they send only you?”

“And you’re presuming wrong in thinking only sending me is not sufficient.”

Her nose scrunched from the sound of arrogance she was used to seeing in Mages.

He shut the book and lowered his glasses on the table. “Yes?”

“Oh, nothing,” she hummed, tying back her long auburn hair, and returning to her underlining task. She could feel his attention on her, and like the most unusual itch, she couldn’t shake it off. Surrendered, she dared a glance in his direction and found him exactly how he’d last been, staring a hole in her head.

“Oh, nothing,” he boredly mimicked her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

She pursed her lips, thinking of how much trouble she’d get from already getting on his bad side merely hours after knowing him. “Ignore me. Most do.”

“You’re impossible to ignore,” he said, and Winter’s pulse grew faster. “You’re standing about two feet away from me.”

Her shoulders deflated a little. “I can stay further.”

“And get on the bad side of some vengeful fiend hiding in this place? Much rather you remain where I can see you.”

“They are peaceful.”

“They might no longer be if they hear you,” he muttered, going back to his work.

She looked over her shoulder, glancing further down the dark library alleys where fiends and ghosts usually found their gathering ground. Would they haunt her? She shivered, remembering how many times she’d run her mouth near them without care.

“Winter,” he called, and she jumped in her seat, putting a hand over her racing heart.

“Y-yes?”

“Do you believe everything you are told by strangers?”

“You're not a stranger.”

“You’re not naive, but it seems you have a fault for not doubting intentions.”

“Sounds like you very kindly called me naive.”

“Kindness is not what I’m known for.”

“Obviously,” she muttered under her breath.

He narrowed his eyes on her. “Where did they find you?”