most likely goodies ; an update book

lie to me ; chapter 2 original draft

this is the original chapter i wrote for chapter 2, lie to me, but i didn't like it so i did it again from scratch

might as well post it on here

~

I came into the library the next morning one hour after its opening. I wanted to be courteous to Ty since he'd be paying rent for the next six months, so might as well get the book as quickly as possible. I made sure to dress lightly since it would be like a sauna in there.

I pulled open those familiar glass doors and stepped inside. The heat was refreshing compared to the climate outside, but I knew that I'd be sweating by the time I left.

Nothing in the library really changed. Part of me expected there would be something different, out of place perhaps, since it was early in the morning. Yet, here I was, astonished to see a human-less building with the same assortment of shelves filled with aging books. I mean, it smelled like cinnamon, but that doesn't really count as something different.

"You're here early," a voice peeped. The same brunet from yesterday poked his head out from one of the aisles of shelves. I nodded, my Adam's apple bobbing. He spoke so swiftly, almost as if he wasn't in the mood to talk, "Did you expect I'd finish the book last night?"

"Kinda," I frowned, impulsively nodding my head again. "You're not done, I'm assuming."

"No," he shook his head. "You can leave if you want. I'm probably not going to be done until this afternoon, or maybe tomorrow morning. I appreciate your commitment to this."

"I'll stay," I concluded, deciding to seize the opportunity of not staying outside in the Autumn's moody wrath.

"You'll—" he paused, taken by surprise, "you'll stay?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's nice and quiet in here. Also it's warm compared to outside, and it smells nice. Not like I was going anywhere important today."

The librarian didn't reply. Instead, he went back to assorting books on the bottom shelf. I guess it was routine for him to not have anyone stay in the mornings. How sad. I went to go sit at the circular wooden tables towards the left wall. Might as well work on my commissions while I wait.

I put my backpack quietly onto the table and emptied it. Out came my Copic markers—my prized possessions. I was asked to draw someone's OC in a sort of anime-like art style. Cutesy and childlike was the character's appearance, as per usual with most. I took out my phone from my back pocket and looked at the reference picture my client sent.

The girl had an impossibly skinny frame, which made her look a bit anorexic. Her clothes consisted of a simple, red baggy hoodie with the characters "ナイキ" on the front (whatever that meant), along with black shorts and brown boots. Her hair was a jet black color and went past her shoulders. I was barely able to notice a fringe that swept on the left side of her face. Her eyes were an icy blue with circular brown frames to compliment it. Her skin was pale and she had a small face. Good color scheme, but terrible anatomy. No wonder they requested me to draw it.

I started off with a simple sketch on the piece of card stock I'd be eventually sending to the client. They requested a "cute pose," so maybe peace signs would work? I wasn't good at the anime art style, since I considered myself a more "scenery-type" artist, but a commission is a commission. I learned anatomy at college after all, so this shouldn't look too bad.

Sketching under this sticky heat made my clothes stick to my body. I hated that feeling. Especially if you tried to pull away that article of clothing, it just snaps right back onto your sticky body, causing more discomfort. I put on extra deodorant for good measures, but a couple hours from now it'll be gone.

"What a pleasant sketch so far," that familiar voice interrupted. I dropped my pencil. He always catches me off guard somehow.

"Oh, thanks," I gushed red as my gaze trailed up to him. He was sitting in front of me with Lord of the Flies on the table. He opened it to a page and began reading. I shook my head and went back to sketching.

Another meaningless few minutes of silence passed before the librarian decided to speak, "Are you making that for someone?"

"It's a commission," I replied without bothering to look up. I was focused on the hair of the character. I tried to make it look more natural rather than blocky.

I could tell his eyes were not focused on the drawing, however. They were on me. It was something common that people did; the way I was allured into the art piece seemed to attract a handful questions. They were easy enough to answer; they didn't require much thought. All my energy needed to be wasted on commissions, not meaningless questions.

"Why did you decide to stay here instead of the comforts of your own home?" Of course he'd ask that. Staying at home would have been he better option, but I felt as if I was a moth drawn to a porch light. I wanted to stay.

"You seemed a bit lonely yesterday, so I suppose I'm adequate company for you. You wouldn't be finished with that book after a day, I knew that, so I packed my art supplies and brought it to here. It's a better change of scenery, and I guess it would be to your benefit."

He was silent, but then threw out a small giggle, "Thanks, I guess. You read people well."

"It's not really reading. You were sleeping with a newspaper on your face, which means you were probably bored or tired of doing, well, completely nothing."

"Say, what's your name?"

I hesitated for a moment. Should I really tell him my name? I didn't have time for friends (well, asides from Ty since I live with him). Truly, I didn't want to disappoint him if he wanted to hang out in the future. It would be too awkward for me to reply with, "No, I won't tell you my name."

God, I'm thinking too much into this. It's just a name, what harm could it do? After I get the book, it's not like I'm coming back here. Ty didn't say I needed to return it, after all.

"My name is Brice," I answered after a good thirty seconds. No last names—no ties.

"I'm Seto," he murmured back in response.

"Quite the interesting name," I commented.

"Quite the interesting accent."

The air grew thick again. I grabbed my pen and started inking the lines. I tried to make it look a bit smoother compared to the rough, sketchy lines of pencil. Inking didn't take too long, and as soon as I finished, I grabbed my eraser and went for erasing the pencil marks. It looked a bit smudged (again), but I could just cover it up by tracing over it. No big deal.

"Do you always do your art in one sitting?" Seto questioned once more. "Have you eaten anything yet?"

"No and no," I shook my head. What I said was slightly true: I usually did my art in one sitting and all I ate this morning was a stupid cereal bar since Ty didn't buy groceries the other day.

"You want me to go get you something? Coffee maybe or tea? I'm asking because I was going to leave and go to Starbucks."

That was odd. "Uh—sure I guess. A cappuccino would be nice."

"Alright."

Just like that, he got up and left. Locked the doors of course, stranding me in here by myself. I could have been a total asshole and trash the place, but then again, I'm not a total asshole.