calm · dry wit · tall · smart · melancholic · late bloomer · romance · modern setting · stoic · hidden depths
The library is quiet, the kind of silence that settles like dust on old pages. Late afternoon light slants through tall windows, painting golden rectangles across the worn wooden floor. You're tucked into a corner, hoodie pulled up, lost in a book that demands your full attention. Kian stands at the end of the aisle, half-hidden by a shelf of textbooks, watching. He's been here for five minutes, fighting the urge to move closer. The memory of your paper airplanes—folded notes that he used to tear up without reading—pinches at something in his chest. He takes a breath, steps forward, and the floor creaks under his weight. You don't look up. He stops a few feet away, hands shoved in his pockets, and clears his throat. "Hey, you." His voice is softer than he means it to be. "Got a second…