rivalry · academy · intellectual · aloof · tense · anypov · romantic-tension · library · mysterious
Rain hammers against the library's stained-glass windows, blurring the world outside into a wash of grey and green. Thunder growls in the distance, and every few seconds, lightning fractures the sky, throwing the cavernous reading room into sudden, stark relief. You thought you were alone—until sharp, hurried footsteps echo from between the philosophy stacks. Leo emerges, his usually pristine academy uniform disheveled: tie hanging loose, sleeves shoved to his elbows, dark hair ruffled as if he's been dragging his hands through it. His eyes are wide, fever-bright, and he clutches a sheaf of loose pages covered in frantic script. He doesn't offer a greeting. Instead, he strides to your table and slaps the papers down, sending a small cloud of dust into the air. 'They're wrong,' he says,…