"DO I MAKE YOU NERVOUS?"
I WROTE ANOTHER FIC WITH DI LAURENTIS
I hope you like it! 🤍☝😌
Dean could count on one hand the number of times he'd ever set foot in a library.
He usually never went in, but that time his ethics professor had assigned a project on Kant and his philosophy, he knew he absolutely had to go to the library to gather as much information as he could about the thinker so he could complete the assignment successfully if he wanted to pass the course with a good grade.
He needed a 9 average to stay on the team, so failing wasn't an option.
He went into the library and, after asking at the reception desk where the philosophy section was, walked over there in search of the book he needed.
His gaze wandered for a second over the volumes, looking for the letter K that began the philosopher's name.
That's when he saw you.
You were putting a couple of books on the top shelf with the help of a stepladder, and it just so happened that since you were the ONLY person who worked there who was in the same area as him at that moment, you were therefore the ONLY one he could ask.
He walked slowly toward you.
He didn't want to scare you, but it was inevitable when you heard a deep male voice beside you.
You tilted your head as soon as you heard it, and as soon as you saw a head of wavy blond hair and eyes as big as, or even bigger than, his arms, you knew you were screwed.
"Hi, I… I'm…" He trailed off. Since when did he ever go blank? from NEVER- …looking for Kant
-He's two hallways down, where the table with the blue chairs is –you indicated- turn right and there's a whole shelf with his works and essays
-Thanks…
-y/n –you added to fill his sentence, making him smile-
-y/n –he repeated, frowning slightly- Have we met before? “Your face seems familiar,” he asked.
“I don’t think so,” you replied. “We move in very different circles, so we’ve never spoken, that’s for sure.”
“I suppose you’re partly right,” he whispered. “If we had talked, I’m sure I’d remember.”
You felt your cheeks begin to turn red with embarrassment, because… well, it was pretty obvious that the blond stranger with the big arms was flirting with you, and you… let’s just say it wasn’t your strong suit.
“I am hard to forget,” you blurted out, playing along. “My mother says I have a special aura, though I’ve never quite understood what that means.”
“I’m not exactly the best person to explain it to you either,” he said, his gaze meeting yours with such intensity that it took your breath away for a few moments. “So I’ll just say your mother is right.”
You stared at each other for a few more seconds, until you decided to break the spell, nodding your head towards the hallway you'd pointed out earlier.
"You should go get the book now, we're closing in five minutes," you urged, making his smile widen.
"It's the campus library, Y/N," he whispered. "It's open 24 hours a day, 365 days a week."
"Okay, you caught me. It's true it doesn't close, but you…" you murmured. "…you have to go."
"Why?" he whispered, his voice dangerously low as he approached you until your back brushed against the bookshelf behind you. "Do I make you nervous?"
"No," you declared, looking anywhere but at him.
Gently, he cupped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, making you look up at him again.
His eyes met yours, and he looked at you as if he could see your thoughts reflected in them.
"You're lying," he whispered. "You're very easy to read, Y/N."
Then he pulled away, leaving you practically trembling and breathing heavily.
He ran a hand through his hair before pointing down the hallway.
"Well, I'd better go find the book, like you suggested," he smiled. "Although, of course, Kant is very dense, and maybe—and I mean MAYBE—I won't understand some concepts, so it's PROBABLY I'll have to ask someone I trust to clear things up."
"I'm someone you trust?" you questioned. He nodded. "Dean, we've only known each other for fifteen minutes. That's a short time to determine if someone deserves your trust or not, don't you think?"
"Wait a minute" he tilted his head toward you before crossing his arms and leaning against one of the bookshelves. "How do you know my name?"
"It's on the front of your jacket," you blurted out, making you chuckle as you watched him glance down at the garment to confirm that, indeed, his name was stitched on it. "I suppose we'll see each other soon, Di Laurentis."
"We will, Y/N" he smiled, before disappearing down the hallway as quickly as he had appeared.
