[Sept. 17] The Library, Morning

[silentsorrow]

Saturday mornings were her favourite time to be in the library. Even the more studious of her classmates (but not hers, never hers) tended to have a bit of a lie-in on the first day of the weekend, after an evening spent hanging out and talking and unwinding from the week.

All of that was why she enjoyed the haunting quiet of the library when it was only her, the ghosts of students past, and Master Dominic, who was puttering about with paperwork and never gave her more than the barest of glances when she came in.

Here, there was silence, but it was a comfortable one instead of the achy, hurtful one she usually walked around in.

Even with a few ghosts lingering at other tables, though none were with her as she wandered the stacks of books, trailing her fingers down their spines, seemed more peaceful than they usually did. Sorrow knelt down in the romance section and tried to decide which ones she wanted to read next.

They were all bad, of course, but she liked that about them. They were fluffy.

Soft.

Not much in her life was.

Comments

[up_in_smoke]

Maybe it was a sign. All the odd-ones-out liked hopeless romance stories. What did that say about them, living vicariously through literary tripe?

"See, then? The whole bunch of us clearly have superior taste in reading material, don't we?"

[silentsorrow]

Sorrow just shook her head at him and rolled her eyes. He was setting his standards far too low.

But then, what did it say about the school that every romance novel in the library was well read?

Nothing good.

She frowned at the shelves.

[up_in_smoke]

Dover followed the direction of that frown to the shelves, eyes travelling over the tattered, well-used spines of the books that filled them. And then he nodded faintly in understanding.

"Fantasy is practically untouched, you know," he shared conversationally. "Horror has a fan here or there, but I think most people here don't have the stomach for it, these days."

[silentsorrow]

Sorrow grimaced. That wasn't really surprising.

Fantasy was too much like their lives, in a lot of ways, and horror struck even closer.

She arched her eyebrows at him curiously. Did he make it a point to check?

[up_in_smoke]

"Entire reason I started looking through this section in the first place was I noticed all the books were so well-read back when I was new, but couldn't help but notice that at the time, most of the upperclassmen were young lads like myself," Dover explained. "Fantasy and horror were both pretty much untouched, maybe two cracked spines between them, tops, and I wanted to know what all the fuss was about."

[silentsorrow]

And now he was stuck with them, wasn't he? She looked at him, then pressed her hand to the shelf and pretended it was stuck and shrugged a bit.

There were worse things than being stuck to these books, she supposed.

[up_in_smoke]

"Right," Dover mused. "Now that I've shown them the least bit of approval, they're never going to bloody well let me go."

And he had a book about pirates in his hand to prove it.

"It could always be worse," he noted. "We could be sitting in the non-fiction section, absolutely enraptured with books about the science of bellybutton lint."

[silentsorrow]

Sorrow gave him an openly skeptical look.

First, she had taste. (Which might be debatable elsewhere, but that wasn't the point.)

Second, she highly doubted there were books on the science of bellybutton lint.

[up_in_smoke]

Grossology, Sorrow. It also had sections on earwax, flatulence, and bad breath!

".... Well someone probably does," Dover allowed with a shrug. "Otherwise people wouldn't get published with drivel like that, hmm?

[silentsorrow]

Her expression was openly skeptical (and dismayed) as she looked at him and then tilted her head challengingly out of the aisle they were in.

Could he find books like that here, then?

[up_in_smoke]

Dover regarded that challenge with an inclined chin of his own, and then broke into a little grin before nodding for her to follow him.

Oh, he was a man on a mission, now, and Dover seldom backed down from a challenge.

[silentsorrow]

Despite herself, Sorrow followed him, picking her steps so that she was deliberately always just a few behind him, so there would be no chance of crashing into him because she'd always have time enough to stop composedly.

And, because he couldn't see, and there was no one else around, Sorrow hugged the romance book tight to her chest as the only way to express her feelings over this challenge.

If he won, that was all right. If he lost, that was even better.

[up_in_smoke]

Dover knew his libraries, Sorrow. Knew that this one happened to have a section right across that way, a youth non-fiction section, that was bound to have something that he could wave about. After all, youths did so love their bellybutton lint and farts.

He actually made a show of hmm-ing and hrrrrrm-ing as he bent over to inspect the titles.

[silentsorrow]

As he drew out the game as long as possible, Sorrow leaned against the shelf, her back pressed against the books, and pretended she was reading her romance novel, disinterested in what he was doing.

In reality, she was watching him avidly, sneaking glances over at him.

[up_in_smoke]

And, after a minute or so of his very important search, Dover's face lit up and he ducked down to collect his spoils from the shelf.

"Now, which one would you prefer we read first, luv? The one with the green slime, or the one with the green gas?"

[silentsorrow]

Sorrow wrinkled her nose at him as she leaned over, giving up the pretense of reading her romance, and gave both books a looking over.

Ew. Also juvenile.

She shook her head and shrugged, pushing one hand away from her as if to say 'get them away from me'. If she spoke, she might have laughed.

[up_in_smoke]

Well, Dover was going to laugh. Why not have a good time of it, right?

"Suit yourself," he replied, and then as an afterthought he tucked both books under his arm, away with the romance novel. "Me, I think I could stand to learn a thing or two about bad breath and smelly feet. Never know when that'll come in handy, after all."

Newsflash: Dover was a brat.

[silentsorrow]

Sorrow looked pointedly at the books he... he was keeping. Was he really going to take those out?

Deciding he was, and that he was entirely a brat, she shook her head again, looked at her romance book and give him an entirely superior glance (because romance was way higher on the food chain than books about bodily functions) and turned to go.

Of course, with all of that, the image was entirely ruined by the fact that she was smiling slightly.

[up_in_smoke]

And as she went, Dover was watching her with a grin that wasn't going anywhere at all.

"Pleasure trading books with you, luv!"

They were going to have to do this more often.