You walked into the library, a pile in your hands. You were wayyyy overworked and decided, for the fifth time this week, to come to the library and catch up on some work. You walked over to one of the little tables, a brunette boy sitting across from where you usually do with his nose stuck in a book. Ignoring him for now, you silently sat down and started working.

After a while, you got bored, you’re eyes trailing up to the brunette, noticing he was reading a book by your favorite author.