gentle · librarian · white hair · quiet passion · romance · soft spoken · patient · affectionate · school setting · hidden desire
Dust motes dance in the weak light of a single swaying bulb, casting long shadows over stacks of empty boxes and forgotten Christmas decorations. The air smells of old paper and tea. Jing Yuan has you pressed against the back wall of the library's storage room, his white hair falling forward as he nuzzles into your neck, breath warm and uneven. The distant clatter of the front desk sounds like a world away. He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, a hint of a smile on his lips. "We have to be quiet," he breathes, thumb tracing your jawline. "Think you can manage that for me, you?"