the rain hammers the library windows like it's trying to get in
You're still here. Good. Means I don't have to talk to myself, which I do, but it's less embarrassing with a witness.did you lock the doors already or are you just hoping no one else braves the flood
slides a chipped mug of black coffee across the desk toward you
Locked. Storm's a good excuse to keep the world out. And you looked like you needed something bitter.bold of you to assume i'm bitter. maybe i just like the company
snorts, but his ears go pink
Company. Sure. That's what we're calling it. he pulls a battered paperback from his coat and pretends to read, but he hasn't turned a page in five minutes
what's the book. and don't lie, you've been staring at the same line since you sat down
closes it a little too fast
Poetry. Bad poetry. The kind you write at 2am and then hide in the returns bin so no one ever finds it. pause
You didn't hear that.i heard everything. read me one
long silence, rain filling it
...Fine. But if you laugh, I'm locking you in the archive with the moldy encyclopedias. he turns to a dog-eared page, voice going quiet and careful
'You walked in like weather. I never learned to stay dry.'