Page 6 of At The End There Was You

It had been less than five minutes since Winter had left the library, but Azriel had kept glancing towards the doors at least a dozen times. She’d not told him she was about to leave or where she was going, and he was wondering if she’d left because of something he’d said to her.

When he heard footsteps approaching, he immediately looked down at his work, trying to find the string of his study and failing.

A cup of tea was placed in front of him, and then a plate of biscuits. “Chamomile tea is good for headaches.”

“What makes you think I have one?”

“You keep rubbing your temples.”

He intended to leave it at that, but he simply couldn’t. “Were you watching me?”

She blinked down at him, her face passive. “Yes. People watching is a hobby of mine.”

“An odd hobby.”

“It is purposeful as it is entertaining. People withhold telling you things about themselves, they shy away or plainly refuse to talk. If you look at someone long enough, you can learn to understand them.” She pushed the cup close to him. “It will go cold.”

“Is that important to you, Winter, to understand people around you?”

“Very.”

He took a sip of the tea. “You put sugar in it.”

“Honey,” she said, taking a seat. “You look like you need something sweet.”

Azriel disliked anything sweet, but she’d not told him that she thought he liked something sweet, she’d told him he needed it. “From your observations, correct?”

She nodded and pointed to the biscuits. “Got reinforcements if that wasn’t enough. Vanilla biscuits.” Her eyes widened and then they shot up towards the open glass ceiling of the tower where rain was beginning to hit the surface. She smiled at it like she smiled at books, with longing. “Rain. We haven’t had rain in months, I guess autumn is truly here. Not with us here, I mean,” she mumbled, returning to her duty, and Azriel considered discharging her of it entirely, so she could continue looking at the rain with the wonder he did not think rain deserved.

He glanced up again, frowning when he couldn’t figure out what was so special and deserving of such happiness. “You smiled at it.”

Curious eyes bore into his. “I didn’t smile at it.”

“You did. You looked at the rain and smiled at it.”

Her lashes fluttered fast. “I don’t know. I didn’t realise. Are you watching me?”

“The hobby isn’t for me, after all,” he said, reaching to pick up another book, realising that his headache had really lessened a little. He didn’t know if it was really because of the chamomile or not.

Thunder struck the skies above and the whole library space filled with silver light, scaring the clingy fiends that hid between stories, away into their furthest hidden dark spots. The piano spook stopped playing as well, and silence filled their ears with an enhanced patter of rain that was heavily drumming on the glass roof.

“I would miss this the most,” she quietly said, looking up at the rain again, not smiling this time. There was nothing resembling happiness on her face, only melancholy. “What would you miss from this world?”

“Not sure.”

“So was I. But I’m trying to make a list.”

Her oddness was seeing no end, and Azriel wanted to unravel that strange yarn of thought until the very end of it. “Why?”

“The girls were saying about a hundred things they’d miss if the world ended, but for some strange reason I couldn't find a single one. I’m sure I’d miss many things and many people, though at that moment I couldn't name a single thing. I am making a list now.”

“What is on this list?” He forwent the why, too curious to know what she would miss to seek why it was so important to her to make a list at all.

“The sun for one, of course. The rain. Clara’s screams when she sees mice and Alyssa’s shudders when she thinks she’s seen a spider.” She giggled at the memory. “The feeling of getting inside fresh sheets after you have a bath. That scent of earth when it rains. Coloured glass. Bells, tiny bells that chime so dimly you’d think the sound was in your head and make you question your sanity. Mouldy books, they smell heavenly.” She glanced towards the empty piano and the melody seeping from it. “I’ll miss music. Especially your music,” she said loudly to the empty spot on the piano stool where the invisible spook sat. Immediately, he began playing a cheery tune for her and she bowed her head in what Azriel guessed to be a ‘thank you’. “I think that is about as far as I’ve gotten.”

He cocked an amused brow at her. “Mouldy books?” Azriel had so many more questions. No one had made him question so many things all at once.

“No further comment on that one. We all like at least something we don’t understand the reason why.”