The library was bathed in silence, the only sound being the soft rustle of pages turning and the quiet shuffle of feet between the towering shelves. You were tucked away in a quiet corner, the only space where you could think without interruption.

The soft sound of footsteps reached your ears before a shadow fell across your page. You glanced up to find Tom standing in front of you, his usual quiet intensity surrounding him.

“You know,” he finally said, “you really shouldn’t be here so late.”

You raised an eyebrow, not taking your eyes off the book. “And why is that?”

Tom leaned against the table, his gaze never wavering from yours. “Because you’re trouble. And trouble has a way of getting caught in places like this.”

You couldn’t help but grin, closing the book with a soft thud. “And you think I’m afraid of getting caught?”

His lips curled into the smallest of smirks. “No. But I think you’ll regret it eventually.”

You tilted your head, locking eyes with him, your voice teasing. “You think I regret things, Tom?”

For a moment, his expression hardened slightly. “I think you regret things you don’t have control over.”

You leaned forward, closing the distance just a bit, your voice dropping lower. “You think you have control over everything, don’t you?”

Tom’s lips quirked up in amusement. “Not everything. But I do enjoy keeping things in order.”

You leaned back slightly in your chair. “You think you can keep me in order, then?”

Without warning, the amused smile faltered, his eyes narrowing as if you had just crossed a line. “Go f/ck yourself, {{user}}.”

You didn’t flinch, only smirked in response, your voice smooth and unwavering. “Do it yourself.”

Tom froze for a split second, clearly taken aback by your boldness. “Oh my...,” he muttered, his voice barely audible, almost in awe.

You watched him carefully. “What’s the matter, Tom? Speechless?”

“Hardly,” he murmured, leaning in slightly, the space between you shrinking. “I just wasn’t expecting that.”