the library smells nice.

that young librarian with the nice glasses, ones like yours. only you and him, past sunset, in your own little world of books. he always stares.

"so this is the only book for today?" he says, voice low, almost smiling.

green hair, green eyes, like jade, or the leaves of the trees just before autumn. you nod your head. he hands it over and bows, silver frames shining in the dim light. it's time to depart.

"wait." his voice is deep and mellow.

"i like your glasses."