Our Love Story | Kim Seokjin

ii

Chapter 2: our silence

Since yesterday I didn't get to read some books in the library, so I decided to have another try to read, and even if that dude appears, I shall just ignore him and act like he is not there—it is not because I'm cruel or harsh, it's just... I don't believe in strangers, mostly guys like him.

I wore my T-shirt with a math equation printed on it; I love this shirt, because it's very rare. It was a give from my math teacher gave it to me. I was a good student with A* grades all the way, and my classmates were jealous.

The weather is colder than yesterday, so I took my scarf and wrapped it around my neck, then I wear my yesterday jacket—it's the only jacket I brought from home—and a pair of boots.

Once I locked the door, I glanced to my left and a guy quickly gets downstairs, his back was facing me and I realised he's kind of familiar to me. "I'm delusional," I shrugged it away, because I don't want to get stress on my break.

So I headed to the library like yesterday, it's already full and somehow it makes me happy. For me, people who read are the most amazing and brilliant people in the world—I'm not insulting the people who doesn't read, but think about it.

You read because you want to know, and someone who always wants to know is; those people who thinks a lot. A person who thinks a lot are geniuses rather than prodigy—but like what Collin (from John Green's novel Abundance of Katherine) said: that people are mostly Prodigy instead of Geniuses.

So here's my theory; I think the people in this world are all geniuses, but they are just not working it right. So they ended up being called as the Prodigy because they are all wonderful and they learn what the geniuses did—make no sense but a person that thinks are geniuses disguised as a Prodigy, and so at the end of the day, humans are all amazing.

"Oh! Hello again! Are you here to read some more books?" asked the librarian, the 'yesterday' librarian that spoke to me as if I was her daughter. I lit a smile on my face, and replied a soft yes to her. "Well let me recommend you some books,"

She is nice, sincerely nice and I love that. I just wish people in the world are like her, nice and friendly and also generous.

"Have you ever read any books written by Jane Austen," she asked with sparkles in her eyes. I do remember that I read some parts of her story, Pride and Prejudice. "Well, if you haven't, I recommend you to read, Emma,"

She told me where the book was placed, "Thank you..." she smiles dearly to me. So I smile back to her in return, like they said: smile while you still have teeth.

I went upstairs to the Classic sections; there are not much people here. It's a section loaded with old books, and amazing authors. The smell of these books is like the smells of old love stories. You just feel like you've live at the late 60s or decades.

A paradise I would call, exaggerating, but like what Jorge Luis Borges said; 'I have always imagine that Paradise will be a kind of Library', and that means Library with books is a paradise for readers only.

So I started my journey of searching the old book of Emma which was written by Jane Austen. In every shelf, it felt like I'm searching for the half of me—as if the half of me was lost, and I'm searching for it for me to live.

Other books looked interesting as well, and I would read it if I finish reading Emma. I tiptoed to look at the upper shelves, the books weren't packed tightly, and I can see a person's hair.

I assumed the person was a guy, since the person's hair was short and brownish, not original brown, it was like dyed brown. I didn't notice myself to watch him for minutes until he turns around his body to the side.