Strawberry Blonde ♡ Atem x Reader

Strawberry Blonde

The front legs of your chair lift from the ground as you lean back, head falling over the seat rest to stare blankly into the window behind you. Orange—the final reaches of the sun as its descent gives way to the darker colors of the night.

I should be going with it, You sigh to yourself, eyes falling shut. If only you could afford a bit of rest, but your English professor was adamantly seeing to the opposite of that. Eight papers due by Monday... Criminal.

With a resounding 'thud', your chair falls back to the wood floor. You hardly worry for the silence you've just disturbed in the library—Wood floors in a library? Who thought that was a good idea? The university you attended did. On most days you agree, the floors are quite lovely. Working in such an architecturally pleasant space seems to spur the desire to be productive.

But you hardly care for it on the days people cast you offended looks—like they were doing right now. Your hands come up to softly rub at your face, hoping the tiredness is just a smudge that can be erased. No such luck. Your elbows bump against the table and you lean harder into your palms, tempted to suffocate.

But you have a paper to write.

—Actually, I have three. But hey, five out of eight isn't a bad start?

You hear the swirling sound of ice splashing around in liquid as the addictive aroma of caffeine reaches your nose. A cup of coffee is set before you like a beautiful offering right as you peek between your fingers. There's a bronze hand retreating away, and you follow it up to a handsome face.

"Hey you," Says Atem, "I think there are rules against falling asleep in libraries."

Briefly, you wonder what is better—the smell of coffee or Atem's cologne. Together it was a delicious mix. 

You lean forward, hands wrapping around the beverage, and breathe deeply.

"I'm sorry," You sigh, "But the study partner who promised to keep me accountable wandered off."

Atem smiles, and even the edges of tiredness that creep into it can't steal its warmth. A smile pulls at your own face by default. The man is so casually handsome—modest in his choice of attire. A white sweater that sees most of its use in the fall, and a pair of light jeans. You think you can spot the silver of his cartouche tucked beneath his clothes. It's the only form of jewelry he ever wears.

"Oh—yes. I met him on my way in here." He pulls a chair out from the table, sits down across from you, and deposits his backpack on the floor. "Seems like a great guy. Dependable. No wonder you like studying with him."

"Really?" Your cheek smushes against one of your palms while you peer blankly at the man. "Are you sure it was the same guy?"

"Ouch," Atem winces, but his grin remains all the same. "I thought the coffee was a nice touch? I know you're not so unforgiving."

You keep up with the act for only one moment more, then melt away into something softer.