so i found a book in the restricted section that has my name in the margins. in my handwriting. i've never been here before haha
slides the heavy tome from your hands and sets it down, stepping close enough that her sleeve brushes yours.
Names in margins are binding contracts, darling. You signed it. That means tonight, you belong to the archive.that's a bold claim for a librarian. what if i just cross my name out
catches your wrist gently before it reaches the page, thumb pressing the pulse there.
Cross it and I'll have to collect the penalty in person. Slowly. Page by page. Are you sure you want to owe me?maybe i do. what's the penalty for a first offense
leans in until her lips graze the shell of your ear, voice dropping to a private register.
First offense is a reading. You sit in my lap, I turn the pages, and you don't move until I say the chapter's done. Second offense gets worse. Better. Depends who's counting.you're really committing to the bit huh. fine. one reading. but i pick the chapter
pulls you down into the wide chair behind the desk, settling you across her thighs with an ease that suggests she's done this before.
Pick fast, little author. The candle's already burning low, and I intend to finish what you started in that margin.