✧welcome to the haunted library, dear reader. my name is nox and i'm the librarian of this abode. a member of the @briarvalleyarchives
i am currently available to take some book requests, so feel free to ask me of its location.
commissions are open for all who want to do so!
❀please be mindful and read the rules of the library, don't interrupt the other readers or ghosts
✎look over the catalogue of books to find one you like. once you have, sit down and relax. or, if you're impatient, see what's to come to the library soon enough.
❦don't be afraid to talk to me or the ghosts, we're quite friendly! but if we make you shy, feel free to put on a mask and hide your identity. do pardon me if you spot me rambling to myself. but if you'd like to, feel free to join me or start some yourself!
☾over here, we have a list that has all the categories of everything in the library. i know there's quite a lot of things in the library, so don't get lost!
♪above all, please be safe in this haunted abode and enjoy your time here. i'll see you on your way out once you decide to leave~
❦summary; a midnight trip can be calming. except when the goal of the trip is a bit stubborn
♪the characters in this story; riddle rosehearts, gn! reader
✎word count; 1,336
❀what do the ghosts say?; romantic, late night stuff, worry for other's health, softness from riddle, falling asleep together.
☛the author's notes; i should update the masterlist lol. uh, hi, i'm alive. lots of stuff happened, i have a job and stuff. i made this YEARS ago. it's probably not as good as my usual stuff, but i really wanna get back into writing again and i hope this is a start. (人 •͈ᴗ•͈) i do really wanna finish the continuation of "until death do us part" but i really need to brush up on my twst knowledge and motivation.
☪look at the catalogue?
It was cold tonight, the breeze a bit stronger than normal. A blanket was brought along for the journey to accommodate for the colder air. It was dark, so you brought along your flashlight. Footsteps echo in the empty corridors, shadows stretching as the light you hold hits the columns.
You had never been out in the school when it was dark before. If you were younger, the fear of ghosts and ghouls that come to snatch you away would be present in your mind. Now though, you know that the ghosts here wouldn’t snatch you away. Or at least won’t hurt you. There was a thrill to all of this though, almost like you were a teenager sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night. The feeling of it all makes your heart race, your legs carrying you through the halls. However, a mundane act of teenage rebellion isn’t the reason why you’re here tonight.
Your goal tonight was the library. Though there was a slight difficulty due to the different environment, but you make it there in due time, the lights dimmed to a more soothing and less harsh color. Your eyes are drawn to the only light source that wasn’t a gentle green, the glow of the orange lamplight drawing you in. At that table lies a head of red hair reminiscent of roses, hunched over a project he no doubt is trying to do as perfectly as he can.
“Riddle!”
Riddle looks up in confusion, swiveling his head until he sees you, who was already walking over to him. He stands up quickly, a mix of confusion and a hint of a frown on his lips. Of course, Riddle was never too pleased when you would break any rules, big or small, and being awake at night when you’re supposed to be asleep. Though, one would suppose that he was more worried about what his partner was doing up so late than mere rules.
“What are you doing up so late?” Riddle’s hands go to hold yours, trailing up to adjust the blanket around your shoulders. “And why are you wearing a blanket around your shoulders? Are you cold? This is too thin for you.” He doesn’t even allow you a nod before Riddle is taking off his blazer, pulling the blanket from your shoulders to replace it. Riddle makes sure to put the blanket back on, an added layer of protection against the cold.
An expression of thanks slips from your lips, much warmer with the added layer. The only response you get is a soft “of course”, which is better than his usual flustered expression. Riddle leads you back to his area of operating, sitting you down first before he does the same. For a moment, it’s silent, the two of you staring at the other. “Now, what are you doing up so late? You shouldn’t be roaming the halls so late. Students shouldn’t be roaming the halls during night and it’s bad for your health.” Ah, there it is. You were wondering how long it would take.
You turn your head away, a light grin on your lips as you turn to look back at Riddle, though it’s obvious he’s none too pleased with you. “Well,” You begin, fingers fiddling with the buttons of his blazer. The fabric wafts the gentle scent of soil and flowers, a smell that you associate with the one you call your partner. You have to take a moment to just let it envelop you, to breathe it in and allow yourself to relax. “I wanted to see you.” A simple and sweet answer. The truth too.
This, however, doesn’t seem like a suitable answer for Riddle, because he lets out a long exhale, gloved fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. His forehead wrinkles in the way he does when he thinks for a long time or when he frowns. “You can see me in the morning. I don’t understand why you would sneak out of your dorm to simply ‘see me’.” Riddle responds, brows furrowed as he gives you a stern expression. He isn’t angry, no. More worried for your wellbeing or this becoming a common occurrence. Of course, it isn’t everyday that the Riddle Rosehearts is staying up late to finish homework. He was too busy today to even begin to think about his homework.
Riddle’s response makes you frown, an expression that could almost be called a pout on your lips. “But you’re staying up too. And you’ve been too busy for us to actually spend time together.”
Riddle is quick to retort with, “I talked to you before class.” Though, this is quickly countered with, “You asked me how my day was and left.”
“We spent lunch together recently though.”
“Yes, we did. Last week. And we barely talked!”
Back and forth, each example is quickly refuted. Back and forth, you and Riddle fuss at each other almost endlessly.
“Well–” Riddle pauses, thinking about his words before he continues. “You shouldn’t be up so late at night.”
“Well you shouldn’t either! You said you would go easier on yourself!”
Riddle opens his mouth, likely to return the remark so that this argument could end, more like squabbling, but pauses. He takes a moment to breathe, hands planted firmly on his thighs before he exhales. After a moment, Riddle takes one of your hands into his own, a shy little peck pressed to your knuckles. An apology, of sorts. Or maybe to sate your wanting for his attention. Either way, it’s enough to calm the air,
“You know you shouldn’t be up so late.” Riddle says, hand still holding yours. You nod and squeeze his hand.
“You’re so busy lately.” It’s a plain statement, a fact that has been true for the past couple weeks. Of course, Riddle has felt the lack of time spent with you, though his mind has been more preoccupied with other matters that, unfortunately, didn’t involve you.
Silence takes the two of you for minutes, what seems like hours. Hands intertwined, eyes locked. It was romantic, in a way. But romantic enough.
Then, a sigh is heard from Riddle and he scoots his chair closer to yours. In almost an instant, your head is on his shoulder and a pen is in his right hand again. This time, his left hand is preoccupied with holding your hand, his head slightly tilted towards your own. He doesn’t say anything, pen hovering above the paper in wait for something. It takes a moment before you respond by squeezing his hand once more, an exhale escaping you as you lean your head’s weight on his shoulder. That was apparently the confirmation Riddle needed, as the sound of his pen against the paper is heard, a calming noise that can be heard along with Riddle’s soft breathing.
Your ears are filled with the sound of the pen scratching against paper, the scent of roses and strawberries filling your nose, your hand held in the tight and reassuring grasp of your partner. This was what you wanted, to be near him. Even though this wasn’t what you imagined when you came here tonight, then again what else would you have expected, but it felt enough. Not enough to make up for the weeks of being without Riddle, but it was a start.
You don’t know when you fell asleep, or even when you closed your eyes, but you do. And Riddle notices it, with the way your body leans its weight against him a bit more. It’s what signals him to take a break, if only to fix the blanket around your shoulders. Riddle can feel himself already relax in simply your presence, eyes fluttering in an attempt to not fall for the allure that is sleep. No one can resist the call and, soon, Riddle’s eyes slip shut.
There the two lay, a picturesque scene of two lovers leaning against one another as they sleep.
At first I read “as an optometrist” and was just ready to accept the statement as is like oh yeah maybe some kind of pun about if people’s views weren’t clouded by hatred and biases they could be normal about aro and aspec in general but then I reread it was like “sigh, time for my nearsighted ass to go back to the optometrist.”
Doctors should snark at each other more, be a bit mean. Not for no reason, mind you. But if five doctors blow me off about symptoms and doctor number six FINALLY runs actual tests and gets a diagnosis, I think it should be Doctor Six's right to call up the other five and tell them they're lazy pieces of shit. That should be socially encouraged. Those first five doctors clearly can't listen to patients, but maybe another doctor might finally get to them.
