He had been hiding and harboring these feelings for a long while now. And to see you stand in front of him while he grazed over books made him feel unsteady.

When you asked him what he would do if the world ended, he turned his back to you and looked into the shelves of books.

He sighs, eyes downcast and speaking softly.

“I’d tell you I like you.” A pause.

“Then, I’d turn to space dust. The end.” He ends his sentence, feeling his cheeks hot but not turning to you.