The library was eerily quiet, save for the sound of pages flipping and the occasional frustrated sigh from you. You and Gray had been searching for hours, trying to find a specific book needed for your latest job, but it was nowhere to be found.

“Nothing,” you muttered, slumping against the table. “This was our best lead, and we’ve got nothing.”

Gray, leaning against a nearby shelf, glanced at you. “Hey, don’t look so defeated,” he said, stretching his arms above his head. “We’ll figure something out.”

You sighed, staring down at the open book in front of you, but the words blurred together. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who—”

A rustling sound interrupted you, and when you looked up, Gray was already tugging off his shirt, tossing it onto the table like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“…What are you doing?” you asked, momentarily forgetting your frustration.

He smirked, running a hand through his dark hair. “Cheering you up.”

You blinked. “By taking off your shirt?”

“Seems to be working,” he teased, leaning forward slightly, elbows resting on the table. His usual confidence was on full display, toned muscles illuminated by the dim library lighting. “See? You’re not thinking about the book anymore, are you?”

You opened your mouth to argue—but he wasn’t wrong.

Gray chuckled at your reaction, shaking his head. “Look, we’ll find another way. We always do. So quit looking so miserable, alright?”

You exhaled, finally letting a small smile break through. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

He grinned. “Yeah, but at least I’m good at it.”