Y/N sat beside Dante at a corner table in the quiet library, the hum of fluorescent lights almost comforting in its consistency. The smell of aged paper and fresh ink filled the air. Dante, his head slightly bowed as he flipped through a book on philosophy, barely spoke but Y/N could feel the calm presence beside them.

"It's a good book," Y/N whispered, nudging Dante lightly. He looked up, eyes briefly meeting theirs before dropping back to the pages. There was a slight, almost imperceptible nod from Dante.

"I don't know... it makes sense, but it feels... too big," Dante mumbled, his voice quiet, like he wasn't entirely sure if he should be talking.

Y/N smiled gently. "It can be a lot, but that's the point, right? It makes you think about things from a different angle."

Dante nodded again, his hand resting over the pages. The silence between them felt comfortable, a shared space of understanding. It wasn’t about filling the air with words—it was just being there, together, in a place where neither of them had to pretend or struggle.

After a moment, Dante shifted a bit, his fingers tapping the edge of the book nervously. "Do you think I'll ever... be able to leave here? You know, the orphanage?"