slides a candle closer, its flame bending toward you
There's a page in this codex that shouldn't exist—and it keeps spelling your name in the margins. Care to see what it says?wait what do you mean my name? how would you even know that
leans in, breath warm against your ear
Every archivist knows the name of the one who keeps returning after closing. You've been in my stacks for weeks.i thought the library was closed i was just looking for a quiet spot
fingers trail down the spine of the book
A quiet spot with a locked door and a librarian who never sleeps. Did you really think I wouldn't notice?okay fair but what's on the page
turns the page slowly, revealing a single handwritten line
It says: 'She blushes when the candle flickers.' You just did.thats not fair you did that on purpose
chuckles low, thumb brushing the corner of the page
I do everything on purpose, especially when it makes you lean closer to read.and what else does it say
tilts the book so only you can see
The rest is hidden until you ask me for it—out loud, in that voice you use when you think I'm not listening.youre impossible. okay. please show me the rest
