Nezumi has been looking for a while, roaming the aisles of the library in search of a particular something. He has thought it would be in its right place as it always has been. Nobody ever cares for it, nobody ever moves it. But today things have changed and Nezumi finds himself at a loss of where else it could be.
He chews on his lip in thought and considers asking the librarian when his eyes finally land on the prize. A young artist with a familiar face. Nezumi watches them for a while, then picks a random book and goes to sit in a corner and wait. Sooner or later, they should be done with their work …
An hour or so goes by and Nezumi finished another chapter. The book that he’s randomly chosen proves to be uninteresting and he slides it back on the shelf before approaching the other. He hovers for a while, waiting to be noticed. And when he is, a smile glazes his lips and he winks, leaning across the table.
“ … hi,” Nezumi cooes, a strand of his long hair slides forward and frames his face. Each graceful movement of his body is calculated and purposeful, he props an arm against the desk and his other hand extends closer—oh, he remembers this one!
“Shannon, was it—?” his smile brightens when he remembers the name. He chuckles, the sound melodic and soft. “The Subway Cassanova … How pleasant to see you again; I was wondering,” he reaches out, long fingers elegantly tap one of the books.
Nezumi cocks his head to the side, oozing allure as he says: “Do you still need this? You’ve had it for ages and the library has only one copy …”
being recognized and talked to makes shannon want to flee. the immediate panic he feels blinds the recognition that he knows this guy. he hides behind his sketchbook, mouth and nose hidden beneath the thick pages. the flush on his face looks brighter against the white pigment of the paper.
he blinks, listening, briefly confused; the subway cassanova. ah, this guy. shannon wants to run away even more. he slides the sketchbook even further up his face, hiding his entire face behind it. “y-yea, i’m shannon...” his voice is meek, quiet; muffled behind paper. he has to force himself to speak. “sure, a pl-pleasure.” he wants to die. the book lowers a little, just enough for him to peek over it. how can this guy be so captivating? he feels funny looking at him.
“go ahead,” he gestures to the stack of books, lowering his sketchbook even further. he sets it down onto the table, drawing side up. it’s filled with sketches of all kinds, from humans to machines to flora. “you-you, can take it.” his lips purse as gaze flits from nezumi’s face and back down to his lap. he feels like if he stares at him long enough his heart might explode. he’s never met a man this attractive or flirtatious before. he has no idea how to interact with him. “i’ve, um. already looked th-through them.”
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