Chapter Twenty-Two
Books Bring Out The Best
"I don't understand why we have to go to this shithole so early in the goddamn morning." Lovino wrinkled his nose, placing a falling apart copy of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets back on the shelf. I rolled my eyes and continued to browse the YA section. My fingers ran along the spines as I picked out any which seemed interesting.
"And I don't know why you insisted on coming along if you were just going to bitch the whole time." I replied, gasping quietly as I pulled a copy of Vicious by V.E. Schwab* out from the shelf. I traced my fingers over the textured cover with a content sigh. What a good book. Gotta love it. Beside me, Lovino huffed again but didn't vocalize his annoyance. He'd been at this for an hour now and I've come to either ignore the complains or shut them down before he can develop them.
Though, I had to agree that eight am was a bit early for a bookstore trip. I loved books as much as the next socially isolated college student but even I had my limits. And those included leaving the house before at least nine am. Of course, those limits were made before I slept in the same building as Vladimir Popescu. A European nation who seems to find it 'productive' to do everything in the morning so you have the rest of the day to relax. An interesting philosophy but definitely not one I'm enjoying.
He woke up at seven, making a ruckus in the kitchen as he attempted to make breakfast. I woke up fifteen minutes later to the sound of crackling flames. As I stumbled out of the bedroom Tino had provided me with, I found Vlad standing at the stove with a burning tortilla. Across the counters sat milk, frozen broccoli, a single pudding cup, and a full container of oats. Only when I yelled at him to put out the fire did he seem to notice the issue with his cooking technique. I have yet to figure out what he was trying to make and at this point, I don't think I want to know.
After the whole food fiasco, I was awake and not happy about it. But I made him food either way, trying to figure out why he was awake so early. Vlad then launched into a ten minute story, retelling a tale of discovery and magic as he figured out a way to find a proper spell book for their plan against the seasons.
"Which plan?" I asked, wanting to know if my response from the previous night had any effect at all. Vlad waved off the question as he dove deeper into the story. His nonchalance made me uncomfortable. Did they still plan to use Obsigno? Even after I'd denied to be their bait?
Why do you care? Either way, we're safe. Problem solved.
I guess. But if not me, then who?
I'll say it again, why do you care?
It just makes me uneasy thinking that someone could be agreeing to essentially giving their lives for a spell we don't even know will work.
Come one, take a load off. Be a little more chaotic about it. We are going to live regardless of the plan they choose.
You're no help at all.
Vladimir continued to talk about this book they needed: The Darkest Secrets of Amonar. It was a book written by one of the first black magicians. Her power specialized in spirits and containing them thus they should find the needed spell information in her book. The issue was that Vladimir had no idea where the book was located. I had asked if they had it in the magic room and he gave me a look.
"If I knew it was in the magic room, I wouldn't be awake right now." He said flatly. He explained that the magic room was locked on days when club meetings weren't planned, such as the weekends. If we wanted to check the magic room, we'd have to wait until tomorrow.

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Hetachains (Rewritten Hetalia Reader Insert)
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