It was already past midnight, and only two students had briefly visited before leaving—probably to their dorms or the city nightlife. Being alone in the library was undeniably frightening, but I reminded myself that libraries are supposed to be safe havens. I mean, who would do evil in such an innocent place? Still, I couldn't shake the creeping feeling that I was completely alone in the entire building.
I tried to distract myself, pulling out my phone. Looking around the dim, silent hall, I opened my music player and played some songs out loud. I do have a decent voice, so I decided to do a little karaoke, singing along to shake off the eerie feelings. To keep myself occupied, I even danced around the tables, laughing softly at my own silliness.
An hour passed in this odd, solitary performance. My playlist finally finished, and the only sounds left were my heavy breathing and the faint hum of the air conditioning. The deafening silence returned again, wrapping around me like a thick blanket.
I paused, listening intently—hoping to hear the faintest sign of life, but all I could sense was stillness. The shadows stretched longer under the flickering lights, and the quiet felt oppressive.
Just as I was about to settle into my chair, a sudden shuffle on the second floor shattered the calm. My hair stood on end.
What was that?
My pulse quickened as I looked up, eyes darting toward the staircase. I walked around the counter. I stared up at the figure on the second floor, trembling uncontrollably. My mind raced—ghosts, spirits, or some prankster lurking in the shadows?
Then, a deep male voice echoed, smooth and unexpected. "I didn't know you could dance and sing that well."
"Ahhhh!" I yelped, jumping back in shock. My body collided with something hard, and I stumbled, losing my footing. A strong hand shot out, grabbing my back, pulling it towards against his body, basically glued to his.
Through my slightly crooked glasses, I caught a glimpse of his face—so close I could feel his breath on my lips. The brightness of his blue eyes seemed almost unnatural in the dim light.
"Relax," he whispered softly, a teasing smile curling on his lips. "It's just me..."
My eyes widened in surprise, and suddenly, a spark ignited inside me—a rush of emotions that felt so unfamiliar, so confusing. His gaze held mine, deep and intense, then drifted down to my lips. One more word from his lips, and I feared it would brush against me, sealing a moment that felt both dangerous and oddly intimate.
"...Krygan," he whispered. The way he spoke his name was almost a caress, a whisper that lingered in the tense silence.
We stood there, frozen for what felt like an eternity, caught in a strange, uncomfortable standoff. I could feel my heart pounding loudly in my ears, desperate to break the spell. I hoped he hadn't heard it, hoped he hadn't sensed the chaos inside me.
Finally, I took a shaky step back, breaking the gaze. "What the hell are you doing here?" I asked, voice trembling slightly as I hurried behind the desk, avoiding his eyes. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, and I clutched at the edge of the counter for support.
I could hear his chuckle from a few feet away, smooth and low. "I was here sleeping the whole afternoon," he said casually. "Woke up when somebody decided to do a concert… here in the library, no less."
I bit my lip, feeling a flush of shame. I crouched behind the counter, feigning focus on the computer screen, though I wasn't really looking at it.
"Really?" I muttered, voice barely above a whisper. "I thought no one was around… and I didn't see you come in."
Krygan rested himself onto the counter like he owned the place. He brushed his golden curls back with a casual, confident sweep of his toned arms, right in front of me.
"Had to stay behind," he said, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Informed the assistant, of course."
I rolled my eyes, trying to dismiss his teasing. "Don't you have weekend plans like everybody else?"
He leaned forward slightly, smirking. "And what about you?"
"None of your business," I shot back, crossing my arms, voice sharp but shaky.
He tapped his phone, then looked up with a playful grin. "I'm hungry. Want anything?"
I pointed at the sign behind me—large and clear: "No eating inside the library."
He chuckled again, then pointed at another sign behind him. "Please observe silence at all times."
I rolled my eyes, but a flicker of curiosity stirred within me.
"I ordered sushi. Come eat with me outside. Or I'll tell Mrs. Vanya of what you did."
I hesitated for a moment, eyes glinting with annoyance, before nodding.
----
In just a few minutes, a sleek black car pulled up silently in front of the library's driveway. The door opened smoothly, and a man in a sharp suit stepped out, carrying a large bento box and two drinks. Krygan bowed in acknowledgment as the man approached, handing him the box and drinks with a respectful bow. Krygan received them effortlessly, then gestured toward the steps before the library's entrance.
He sat down gracefully, patting the space beside him, and I hesitated for a moment before settling next to him under the glow of the bright full moon. Its silvery light cast long shadows across our quiet corner.
Krygan reached into the bento box, placed it between us, and handed me a pair of chopsticks. With gentle care, he lifted the cover, revealing an array of colorful, tempting sushi—bright pinks, deep reds, shimmering silvers. I'd never tasted sushi before, but I had seen it online and read about how to eat it.
I watched Krygan closely, mimicking his movements. He clasped his hands together like a prayer, bowed slightly, and softly mumbled, "Itadakimasu."
"Dig in," he said eagerly, eyes twinkling with anticipation.
I smiled shyly, feeling my stomach tighten with nervousness. I'd practiced using chopsticks during harvest season, painfully trying to pick up stubborn kernels of corn. But this—this was different. My first attempt at sushi.
I steadied my hand, took a deep breath, and carefully pinched a piece of tuna sushi. As I lifted it, only the tuna clung to the chopsticks, and I cursed myself silently. Embarrassed, I muttered, "I'm full."
Krygan was already on his second piece, chewing with a focused expression, a faint smile curling on his lips as he watched me. When he finished, he leaned forward with a graceful movement and effortlessly picked up a piece of sushi, dipping it lightly into soy sauce with an elegant flick of his wrist.
He held it before my mouth, eyes locking onto mine.
"Come on. Say ah," he urged softly, his voice smooth and coaxing.
I hesitated, feeling my cheeks flush, then involuntarily opened my mouth. He gently fed me the sushi, and as he withdrew his hand, he brushed the corner of my mouth with his thumb, wiping away a drop of soy sauce. Without hesitation, he licked his finger clean, a slow, deliberate movement that sent a strange shiver down my spine.
I was taken aback, my mind racing with confusion and curiosity. I continued eating, the strange intimacy lingering in the cool night air, as the moon watched silently over us.
"You're actually good at chopsticks," Krygan said, his tone calm and encouraging. "You just picked the sushi wrongly. Try to pick it diagonally from the side, not directly on top. Turn it over on its side, pick it up, and dip the fish side lightly into the soy sauce. When you eat, turn the piece over so the fish hits your tongue first—that way, you get the maximum flavor. It also helps keep the rice intact."
He demonstrated smoothly, his movements precise yet gentle, his voice soothing and patient—so different from the usual boisterous masculinity that often characterized him. His eyes twinkled with a quiet confidence as he watched me try again.
I concentrated, mimicking his technique, and on the second attempt, I finally succeeded. A small smile tugged at my lips.
"Thanks," I muttered softly, feeling a strange warmth bloom inside me.
"You're welcome," Krygan replied, his tone clipped but kind, before returning to his own sushi with an effortless grace.
The silence between us settled comfortably, punctuated only by the faint sounds of the night—the distant chirping of crickets, the rustling of leaves in the breeze, and the quiet hum of the night.