[no powers]

A day like many others, amidst a modest life that you built for yourself, one that made you feel content. Your library: your own little angle in the world, the place in which working doesn't feel like a boring task, the coffee machine next to your spot by the cash register, and the aroma that blends in with the therapeutic smell of books.

The only downside of the job is that there was always someone who preferred reading the books right by the shelves rather than buy them first. Not ideal: it cuts profit, but, most importantly, you don't particularly enjoy reprimanding people.

Yet, this time, it wasn't a spiteful teenager or an old lady you were faced with. No, not at all. A man, blond, beautiful, leaning against a shelf and looking so pleasantly immersed in his read, it almost pains you to disturb him. But you have to.