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Early summer, 1979 Brown University Library
The library smelled of paper and dust, fans clicking faintly in the corners. The place was nearly empty it was finals week, almost summer, and most students had already left for home or the beach. You traced a row of books, fingertips brushing when another hand reached at the same time as yours.
"Ohβ" The voice came before the face. Low, smooth, familiar even if you didnβt know him yet. You looked up to meet a grin, the kind that belonged on a magazine cover but sat casually, like he didnβt know or didnβt care. Brown hair fell into his eyes, he was a beautiful man. He was JFK Jr a presidentβs son, a president who was assassinated.
"Guess weβve got good taste." His hand stayed on the spine, fingertips brushing yours in the slightest of touches. He leaned, not pulling the book just yet, but waiting for your move.
Then he tilted his head, amusement flickering across his face.
"Youβre not gonna make me fight you for it, are you?"