As I stacked the books on the shelves, I could feel the quiet hum of the library around me. It had always been my little escape—a place where the outside world faded away, and the only sounds were the soft rustling of pages and the occasional squeak of a chair. There was a comfort in it, knowing I had this small role in keeping everything organized, like I was part of the heartbeat of this old, cozy place.
Most people wouldn't imagine working in a library could be satisfying, but I loved it. There was something soothing about handling books, feeling the weight of stories and knowledge pass through my hands. Some books had worn, creased spines and others were shiny and new, waiting to be opened for the first time. And each day, I'd meet a few familiar faces and see the regulars, each on their own little journeys.
Some days were quiet, with only a few visitors, and on others, I'd help students scrambling for last-minute resources or guide lost readers to the right section. And then there were those rare moments when I'd find a book I hadn't seen before—a hidden gem tucked away on a shelf, waiting to be discovered. It was like each one had its own silent story to tell.
It wasn't glamorous work, but it was mine. And I liked the calmness of it, the small sense of purpose in my daily routine.
As I finished placing a few novels back in the crime section, my eyes drifted over the quiet tables scattered across the library floor. My gaze stopped on a familiar figure sitting at one of the corner tables, the afternoon light falling softly on his profile. There he was, Sinister Romanov, dressed in a black turtleneck and a sleek leather jacket, leaning casually in his chair, fully absorbed in a book. I could hardly believe my eyes—it wasn't just any book. He was reading The Blood Whisperer, my favorite crime novel by my all-time favorite author.
For a moment, I was torn. Should I pretend I didn't see him? But something about the scene—the way he was immersed in those pages, as if he were hunting for clues between the lines—drew me in. I slowly made my way over to his table, unable to resist the curiosity.
He looked up, his deep, thoughtful eyes meeting mine, and I could see the hint of a smile in them. "Didn't expect to see you here, Petal," he said, his voice soft but undeniably warm.
It was a complete lie, and I could see right through it.
I gestured to the book in his hands, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't expect to see you reading that."
Sinister chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Well, I missed out on a lot of... storytelling," he admitted, his gaze dropping briefly back to the book. "There were so many stories you used to tell me, and when we... drifted apart, I realized I missed that. I missed hearing your voice talking about these tales." He hesitated, then added, "So I figured, why not catch up?"
I felt my heart skip a beat. "You're reading it just to catch up with me?"
"Well, it's that, and..." He gave a small, self-conscious shrug, "I thought I should finally read something that meant so much to you. Besides," he said with a teasing look, "I might like the book, and you know... maybe it'll give us something to talk about."
I felt a smile tugging at my lips, surprised and flattered. "Did you even know where to start?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
"I asked around, and apparently, The Blood Whisperer is one of the best ones," he admitted. "I thought I'd get through this and then you could... recommend more?"
I bit my lip, trying to hide how much his words affected me. "You're in for a wild ride. That book... it's intense."
"That's why I like it," he said softly. "It feels like you're here, telling me the story. Like you used to."
"So, when are you going to get a break?"
Why is he acting like this, God? Why am I supposed to keep up with him? It's getting harder every day.
"Did you finish your assignment?" he asked, looking at me intently.
"Uhm, maybe you could help me?" I replied, trying to deflect.
"Sin," I finally said, breaking the silence, "why are you acting like this?"
"Like what?" he asked, his tone gentle but guarded.
Like he'd forgotten everything—the part with Liam, the night he left me, the night I almost ended up with his best friend. He was the first to break us, and yet here he is, as if none of it mattered. He went with Veronica, but now he's here, acting like nothing happened. I'm so confused. Should I listen to Sophia, who always tells me to move on, or maybe Skyrim, who's convinced I should just confront him? I don't even know who to trust anymore.
"Petal?" His voice pulled me out of my spiral of thoughts.
"Huh?"
"Like what? You're saying I'm acting like what?" he repeated softly, his eyes searching mine.
"Nothing, it's nothing," I mumbled, turning back to my work, but my heart felt anything but settled.
I was lost in thought, tangled in the mess of my emotions, when I felt a sharp poke in my side. I turned to see Mira, my coworker, flashing a bright, knowing smile. She was the type of person who could never go unnoticed—always the center of attention, always in control. It wasn't just her extroverted personality, it was her presence. With a body that turned heads, she had a way of making every man feel like the world revolved around her.
She tilted her head toward Sin, who was back at his table, lost in his book. "So, who's that?" she asked, the question dripping with curiosity as her eyes followed his every move.
I hesitated. "Uh..."
Before I could finish, she practically leaned over me, eyes glinting. "Introduce me, will you?" The way she said it wasn't a request—it was a demand, one she fully expected to be answered.
I shifted uncomfortably. Mira had always been this way—never doubting for a second that men should fall for her. She was used to it, probably expected it. She looked at Sin as if he were some sort of new conquest, and I could almost see the wheels turning in her mind. He was just another guy who would fall for her charm.
"He's... just a friend," I stammered, not sure how to explain the situation without giving too much away. But Mira wasn't listening.
She leaned back, eyeing Sin like a predator sizing up her next meal. "Just a friend?" she echoed, her lips curling into a smirk. "Please, I'm not buying that. He came here for you, didn't he? Men always do. They can't resist someone like me."
I blinked, the words hanging in the air between us. Her confidence was almost unsettling. Sin wasn't the kind of guy who chased after women like her, but Mira was so certain. She was always certain. The way she carried herself, the way she thought the world should revolve around her—it was almost as if she believed that Sin had come here for her, like every man did.
I felt a knot form in my stomach, unsure whether I should correct her or let her believe whatever she wanted. "Mira, he's not—"
But before I could finish, she interrupted me with a wink and a playful nudge. "Don't worry, I'll make him see reason." She stood up and straightened her shirt, the perfect picture of self-assurance. "Just watch, he won't be able to resist."
I stared at her, part of me curious, part of me frustrated. Was she really that convinced that every man would fall for her? Did she really think Sin was just another man to be charmed? The more I watched her approach him, the more I couldn't help but wonder... was Mira right? Did Sin really come here for her? Or was there something else I didn't understand?
She didn't even listen to my words. With a self-assured smile, Mira strutted past me, heading straight for Sin. I watched her go, her every movement exuding the kind of confidence that made heads turn. She was completely oblivious to whatever I had said, as if my words didn't even exist in her world.
I sighed, pushing the thoughts aside, and turned back to the counter. There was work to do. I had to update the details of the new book arrivals. I focused on the task at hand, tapping away at the keyboard, pretending not to care about what Mira was doing or saying.
After some time passed, a loud thud echoed through the room, causing me to jump. I turned around just in time to see Mira standing there, breathing heavily, her face flushed with rage. She looked completely unlike the confident, collected woman I usually saw. There was something raw and unsettling about her anger. I had never seen her like this before.
Before I could even ask what happened, she blurted out, "That's the rudest bitch I've ever met."
I raised an eyebrow, confused. "Who are you talking about?"
She pointed in the direction of Sin, her voice dripping with disbelief. "I mean, how can he ignore me like I don't even exist? He didn't even glance at me! Oh God," she fumed, fanning herself with her hand, struggling to control the rage building up inside her. "This is the first guy who's ever ignored me like this. People were literally staring at me! Can't he see I was talking to him?"
I stood there in stunned silence for a moment, trying to process her words. A strange feeling washed over me, a mix of confusion and—dare I say—relief? There was something oddly satisfying about seeing Mira, the woman who always thought the world revolved around her, getting her confidence shattered by someone who clearly wasn't falling for her charm.
I didn't know if I should laugh or not, but it was hard to suppress the grin that tugged at the corner of my mouth. It wasn't like I wanted to see her hurt, but there was something poetic about the way Sin had broken her unshakable self-assurance. For once, Mira wasn't the one in control, and I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction.
Mira huffed and wiped a tear from her eye, still visibly shaken by the encounter. She wasn't crying because she was upset—she was crying because her ego had taken a hit. It was the first time I'd ever seen her like this, and it was honestly a little unsettling. She was always the one who held power in any room she entered, effortlessly commanding attention. But here she was, flustered and fuming, as if her world had just been turned upside down.
"Can you believe him?" she continued, glaring in Sin's direction, as if willing him to look at her, to acknowledge her presence. "I'm literally the queen of this place, and he acts like I'm invisible. Who does he think he is?" Her voice was sharp now, almost venomous.
I tried to keep my face neutral, but I could feel the satisfaction bubbling up inside me. It felt like a small, unexpected victory, not just for Sin, but for me, too. The idea that someone—someone like her—could be knocked off her pedestal made something shift inside me. I didn't like how it felt, but I couldn't ignore it.
"Maybe he's just not impressed by the usual stuff," I said, keeping my tone light but deliberate. "Not everyone falls for the same thing."
She glared at me then, as if accusing me of siding with him. But I couldn't help it. Something about the way Sin had handled the situation—so cool, so effortless—was magnetic. It was as if he didn't even need to try, yet he still had the power to make someone like Mira question everything about herself.
I felt guilty for a split second, but it quickly passed. I had my own reasons for feeling the way I did about Mira, and this was just one more example of her falling short of her own high expectations.
With a sharp sigh, she spun around and stormed off, likely to lick her wounds somewhere where no one could see her pride cracking. I, on the other hand, couldn't stop the smile that tugged at my lips. Sin had no idea how much damage he'd just done. But I was starting to realize—I didn't mind at all.