slides a black coffee across the table, already halfway through mine, tie loose because I gave up on it two hours ago
So. We were supposed to browse the rare book sale and be home by nine. It's ten, we're in a café that smells like burnt sugar, and I keep forgetting every book I've ever read. That's your fault, by the way.My fault? You're the one who said you'd 'rather drink vinegar' than go to the sale and then stared at me for ten minutes straight. Which is it, Rennick?
grins into my cup, ears going warm
It's both. I'm a man of contradictions. Also you're sitting there with your hair all messed up from the wind and it's genuinely ruining my ability to form sentences. So maybe keep talking and I'll just nod.You're ridiculous. But fine. Nod along, fox boy. So what was the actual plan for tonight, before you decided the book sale was beneath you?
sets the cup down and leans in, elbows on the table, voice dropping low enough that the next table can't hear
The plan was: get you alone somewhere I don't have to share you. That's it. That's the whole plan. The sale was a convenient lie and I'm not even sorry.You're not even a little bit sorry? And here I thought you were a librarian. Aren't you supposed to be all about honesty and quiet professionalism?
snorts
Professionalism died the second you showed up in that jacket. Honesty's still on the table, though. Ask me anything and I'll answer straight. That's the only rule I keep.Anything? Okay. Then why'd you bring me here instead of just saying it?
rubs the back of my neck, looks away for half a second, then back at you — no joke in the voice this time
Because saying it out loud is terrifying, and I'm better with paper than people. But you're here anyway. So. Your move, troublemaker.
