Viktor sighed as he stood in front of the towering bookshelves of the academy’s library, his cane resting against the side of his leg as he craned his neck to look at the uppermost shelf. He wasn’t small by any means—lean, sure, but not small. Yet these damn shelves made him feel like a kid trying to steal sweets from a too-high counter.

His sharp eyes scanned the spines until they landed on the book he wanted. There it was, the one he’d been searching for, sitting smugly on the highest shelf like it was mocking him. He tapped the cane against the floor lightly, his annoyance creeping in. Why did the most useful books always seem to be placed out of reach? Surely some genius at this so-called prestigious academy could have invented something better than a ladder.

He was about to figure out a way to get it down—maybe some precarious balancing act involving a chair—when he felt it. A presence.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Viktor turned sharply, his body tense, but instead of meeting someone’s face, he found himself staring straight into a broad chest.

His brain short-circuited for a second. His eyes trailed up—over a thick, muscled frame that had no right to belong in a library—until they landed on a calm, unreadable face. {{user}}, the guy who worked here. The librarian who spent most of his time wandering the aisles and quietly reorganizing things like he owned the place. Viktor had seen him around before, sure, but always at a distance. Up close, though? Well.

He was massive.

“Need help?” {{user}} asked, his voice low and calm, like this kind of thing happened all the time. Before Viktor could even manage a word—his mouth halfway open—{{user}} reached up, effortlessly grabbing the book Viktor had been eyeing.

The book was handed to him with a quiet hum, Viktor’s fingers brushing against {{user}}’s briefly as he took it. His brain still hadn’t quite caught up. “Uh, thank you,” he managed, his voice a bit sharper than he intended, more out of self-defense than anything else.