young leonardo dicaprio imagines + social media aus

leo x reader {between bookshelves}

Sunday mornings were never something special before you started seeing him.

There was only one library in town that was open on Sundays, probably because no one found a reason to go at the end of the week. No one, that is, except for the blonde boy who always sat by the back bookshelves, reading what appeared to be the same book week after week. 

You noticed him on the second Sunday you started working there. It was so peaceful in the quiet, seemingly abandoned environment that all you were focused on was the novel sitting on your lap behind the counter and the soft sounds of the creaking fan. But once you started noticing the boy, you never stopped seeing him.

That morning the weather was especially nice, making the walk over to the library a very pleasant start to your day. You were assigned the task of restocking some fiction books in the back, so your arms were filled with a variety of novels.

As you approached the building, you saw a familiar figure sitting on the rusty bench outside of the door, cigarette in hand. There he was. Taunting you. As you came closer, you locked eyes with the boy now raising the cigarette to his lips, not breaking his steady gaze as he blew a puff of smoke that dissolved almost instantly. He was...entrancing. Almost magnetizing.

Once you were within a couple feet of him, the boy stood up, sealed the tip of the cigarette with his hand, and tossed it into the small bin near the door. He stood there artlessly, still not breaking his gaze as you fumbled with the key in your pocket. 

You could feel his eyes on you as you finally managed to opened one of the double doors. With a small glance behind you, you took a couple steps inside, keeping it open for him to walk through after you.

You mumbled a soft, nearly imperceptible 'good morning' as he passed by, letting out the air you didn't realize you'd been holding in. As you walked over to the front desk and carefully placed each of your books on the counter, you couldn't help but look over your shoulder to follow the boy's movements. He had been a mystery to you for weeks now, but maybe, finally, he wouldn't be anymore.

Hesitantly and with a paperback in hand, you approached the bookshelves by the back corner. Unsurprisingly, the boy was standing by the window next to a wide array of classic fiction novels, holding a book in one hand and an unlit cigarette in the other.

"You aren't allowed to smoke in here, you know." You said gingerly, meeting the boy's gaze once again and fumbling with the cover of your book.

"I know," He answered matter-of-factly, "That's why I'm not smoking, see." 

You grimaced. "My manager-"

"Can you help me find a book, please?" He interjected, twirling the cigarette with his forefinger and flashing you a small smile as he put it in his back pocket. 

You opened your mouth to say something, but you were at a loss for words. This guy was very...deliberate. It was infuriating, yet oddly captivating.

"Uh-yeah. What do you need...?" 

"Leo." 

"Leo." You repeated, not so much out of acknowledgement, but rather to hear the name another time. Leo. "Well, if you need something in particular, I can look up which-"

"Y/n, yeah?" He interrupted again. You paused, raising an eyebrow. 

"Your name tag. It says your name..." Leo explained sheepishly, gesturing to your badge. 

You cleared your throat awkwardly. "Right, uh-what is it you're looking for?" You were so dumbstruck by this boy you'd never so much as spoken to before, and it was taking over your sense of human interaction.

"Gatsby." 

You eyed the book Leo was holding in his hand of the very same name.

"F. Scott Fitzgerald?" You inquired, watching his deep blue eyes flutter around the shelves before they met yours.

"Do you know any other books simply referred to as 'Gatsby'-let alone a book with that name in the title?" Leo asked with feigned-interest, raising an eyebrow and leaning against the bookshelves. 

"Don't lean on t-"

"Look, I've been reading and re-reading this book almost every time I come here, but I want something else. Another Gatsby." 

You stood there for a moment, still clutching your book, pondering what was going through this boy's head. There was something about him that wouldn't let you bullshit your answer or simply give him a list of similar books, like you would do with most customers. 

"You can't ask me a question like that. You can't want-I mean, that's like asking for another 'Brave New World' or like...another 'Animal Farm'. The whole damn point of books like Gatsby is that you don't need to find another version or another sort of book, let alone do you wish to do so." You took a cautious breath, waiting for Leo's reaction, but none came. He stood there, looking at you with those tender yet penetrating eyes, and smiled.

"Good answer, Y/n. Can I ask you something else then?" He said, much more gently than before. You stiffened a bit as Leo took a step closer to you, the comforting smell of mahogany and lavender wafting from him. 

"Are you free tonight? Or like, now?"

The two of you stood, closer than you realized, listening to the sound of the always-creaking fan and each other's stifled breaths. 

"Yes. I'm definitely free tonight...or like, now." You said softly, but with a noticeable sense of excitement in your voice. Leo grinned, moving his free hand to where yours hung beside you.

 "Then let's go, shall we?"