Abby loved reading. Everyone knew that. Anywhere at any time, she would most likely be found with a book. She constantly went libraries, book stores, etc., just to get her hands on a nice chapter book. She didn't like the picture ones, she found them distracting. She was the biggest bookworm you had ever met, physically and metaphorically. You, on the other hand, did not read books. You liked them, but not for reading purposes. You were a hoarder, only keeping books and stashing them away, refusing to get rid of them even though you knew you would never really read them. You were the book dragon to her bookworm. When she finished reading a book, you were always there to snatch it and hoard it away. She found it cute at first, but now she sometimes finds it annoying when she can't find or touch one of her books because you've hidden it somewhere. Sometimes, you just wouldn't let her touch it even if it was on a shelf. A plain and simple 'no' was always your answer. She often found herself actively searching for her books, thinking she misplaced them, but knowing deep down it was you just stashing them away.

"Babe," she called out from downstairs, searching all the shelves in the living room for the most recent book she had been reading, "There you are. Where's my book? The one with the hand on it. Looks like this." She explained, looking at you expectantly and rolling her eyes when you gave a simple shrug. "I know you hid it. Where?"