Not so out of place | KJD & JSJ
[...]
At the blink of an eye, he straightens his posture and squares his shoulders. There was a charm to his sharpness with everything about him seemingly angled from his cheekbones to the shape of his fingers. Although the library wasn’t quite the place to socialize (he can see the librarian out the corner of his eye making a move), he wasn’t going to let this moment pass for the sake of a few house rules. “Does this mean that you pick out books for the sake of reading them, then?” For every moment he spends alone and without interaction, he really should learn to converse smoothly and without missing a beat if he was going to be a suave individual.
Krystal raises a brow, “Are you sure?” She shrugs before taking the bottled water back, raising it to her lips to take a sip. Her eyes follow his movement, noticing that there indeed was no pencil in his vicinity. A smile quirks up her lips as she rifles around in her bag and tosses a mechanical pencil at him, fully expecting him to catch it.
At his stammering, the clearing of throat, and his nervous laughter, Krystal feels herself begin to smile back at him. A laugh bubbles past her lips, and she covers her mouth to try and stifle it, turning the other way. But it was clear that she was smiling from the way her eyes are turned up into half moon crescents. She’s watching him for more of a reaction, this shy and awkward boy has definitely piqued her interests. Krystal pushes her books aside, instead focusing all of her attention on him. Hell, homework can wait, and she can read any other time.
She watches as his posture is suddenly straightened, and his eyes flicker over to something moving to the side of her. Her own eyes slowly slide over to the object or person that has briefly gotten his attention. Ah, the librarian. Probably coming to scold them for talking in a library and to lower their god-damn voices (she most likely did not say god-damn, but Krystal was sure she was thinking it). When the boy in front of her speaks again, Krystal turns her attention back to him.
She opens her mouth to speak, finger tracing random patterns on the wooden surface of the desk. “Yes, I do. Why? Is that wrong?” She tilts her head to the side, watching him with curiosity in her eyes.












