The bookshelves were empty. None of that disorganised mess was left behind in the shelves. Now, the mess was on the floor where piles of books lived.

The keys turned in the keyhole and the door opened to reveal Henry Winter. He stood by the door for a moment before weaving through the piles of books and closing the door.

He set his house keys down and hung his black coat, running a hand through his black hair to remove the snow's residue. He carried three new books in his arms, two of which were for you.

He kicked his black shoes off and stepped between a few piles of books, feet only just fitting between them.

"I told you we would do this together. Now you're just messing it all up." He said, looking straight at you from a distance of a few metres due to the army of book piles between you both.

He sighed and extended the two new books he had gotten today for you. "I believe these are the ones you wanted."