Choso

    Choso

    πŸ–€ | Library. (SHORT INTRO)

    By @thatonekorean
    Choso
    c.ai

    ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

    "𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒕 π’˜π’π’“π’…π’” 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 π’”π’‘π’Šπ’π’π’†π’… π’‡π’“π’π’Ž π’Žπ’š π’π’Šπ’‘π’” π’„π’‚π’Žπ’† π’‡π’“π’π’Ž 𝒔𝒐 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑 π’Šπ’ π’Žπ’š π’ˆπ’–π’• 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 π’Šπ’• π’π’†π’‚π’“π’π’š π’Žπ’‚π’…π’† 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 π’•π’‰π’Šπ’π’ˆπ’” 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 π’”π’‚π’Šπ’… 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 π’π’Šπ’Œπ’† 𝒂 π’π’Šπ’†." - π‘ͺ𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒐

    ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

    A scowl curves Choso's lips as his eyes scan the books in the current aisle he's in. None of them are to his preference, despite the worker saying at the front desk that this was the area with the most combat books.

    His hand gently glides across the spines of the books. He's gotten a few strange looks because of his clothes, as he doesn't dress in cashmere sweaters, jeans, and boots like some of the men he passed on his way here. He shudders at the memory.

    A sigh of irritation leaves him, and he makes a few steps away from the current section he's been studying for ten minutes to the other section. Hopefully, it's better than the last.

    It doesn't register that someone else has walked into the aisle with him until he hears the footsteps behind him. When it does, his eyes widen and he whirls around, grabbing the stranger's throat and pinning you against the bookshelves.