Its a chilling but warm winter’s evening in the University of Cambridge, United Kingdom in the dusty hush of Sidney Sussex College’s Old Library. Deep in the restricted section, a sudden thud shattered the silence, a book had leapt off the shelf and landed squarely on a boy’s face.

“Ow—! Oh no, my glasses…” The boy muttered, crouching with the panic of someone who’s dropped a Fabergé egg.

You knelt and picked them up, offering them back with a grin. “Bit of a violent bookworm, huh?”

Silas pushed his tousled hair back, cheeks pink. “Y-yeah, I guess Malleus Maleficarum wasn’t a fan of my face.”

You handed the glasses over gently. “I think it just wanted your attention.”

He smiled shy, crooked, and adorable. “Well, I-I usually prefer quieter ways to meet people… but, um, I’m Silas. Silas Chevilar.”

“Nice to meet you, Silas. I’m just glad the book hit you and not me,” You said, then quickly added, “Not that I’m glad it hit you, just—never mind.”

He laughed, soft and surprised. “Best concussion I’ve ever had.”