@rowanxqueen
the SILENCE that crept through the cracks of decaying books and the old oak carved to be bookshelves left brandon a feeling of EASE -- like a boat docked at bay, with the gentle waves and the scent of salt in the air. the same could be said for the raven-haired icarus. libraries were like a HOME for him -- he’d never had one. his nomadic soul plucked him from foster home to foster home, rendering them his sole place of sanity. the quiet and the wonders of words drew him in, and he found himself there fairly often. his dark boots clicked against the marble flooring of gotham’s own, hazel orbs dancing across the countless novels ------ when a more delicate frame collided with his own. eyes glided downward, meeting familiar chocolate brown hues. ‘ we’ve gotta stop meeting like this ---- ’ a smirk is swift to grow on his lips. ‘ haven’t you ever heard no running in the library? ’