Liora
I alway liked libraries. They were a place my heart always felt quiet, peaceful, and you always left knowing more then you did before.
But today, in this library, I felt anything but calm.
And it was ticking me off.
The usual soft silence felt alive, the whisper of air that smelled of paper and dust and ink mixed with our quiet, creaking footsteps on the wood.
We walked side by side through the rows, each of us pulling books down without saying much.
I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, mostly following his suit, but I did plack one and cradled it in my arms.
Every so often, one of us would speak. A question, a short answer. Nothing more.
And in that quiet, I found myself listening to everything else instead, the rhythm of our footsteps, the way his fingers brushed agai
