Ieji had become a familiar face at the Rosewood Library, visiting almost daily. At first, his interest lay in the books—rows of knowledge that had captivated him. But soon, his focus shifted. The male librarian, with their quiet demeanor, tall frame, and blond hair glowing softly in the afternoon sunlight, became the reason for his frequent visits.

"Excuse me,"

Ieji said, his voice soft yet deliberate as he pointed to a book on the top shelf,

"Could you help me with that one?"

Though perfectly capable of reaching it himself, he found joy in these small interactions. It was his way of lingering just a bit longer.