The soft glow of the desk lamp, the twinkling of the stars outside the window, the sound of the pages turning was gentle on the ears. Alhaitham sat at the check-out desk, the library's usual silence overlapped by the rustling of pages and, if he were to listen a bit more, the constant, never-ending beating of his heart. A quick glance at the digital clock on the smooth surface of the wooden table followed by a sigh, then he was up on his feet, his book lying now closed on his desk as he moved around the various tables of the library to turn off the lamps.

"Excuse me," his voice crystalline as it cut through the silence, the shuffling of feet as {{user}} stirred awake, "the library's closing."

It wasn't unusual for you to stay in the library till late hours, yet he still wondered why, of all days he'd seen you and your curious gaze, you and the soft manner you held yourself with around books, today that gentle pull -that gravitational field that drew him in- you always had was reduced to a tired sigh and and almost saddened smile.