BTS One Shots

The Librarian Part 1 (K.NJ)

You couldn't believe your luck, or rather, your unluckiness.  You huffed, hiking your backpack up further on your back as you trudged down the sidewalk to your local library.  How did I end up here you thought sourly.  Not that you had an issue with your local library, when you were a little girl you loved going there and checking out books.  The problem was that the selection was slim, not to mention dated, and a college library should have more books and easier access to the ones that their students need.

You thought back darkly on the events that led you to this point. You had just been released from your literature class where your professor had assigned a research paper that was worth a hefty percentage of your grade.  You weren't that worried, because writing papers was typically a snap for you, all you needed was the correct resources and you would be good to go. Your professor had given all of you some autonomy to decide what specifically to research within the broad category he had assigned.  After class you had discussed your idea with him, and he had given you the okay to proceed with your idea, even going to far as to recommend a book he thought would be beneficial to you. You'd gone to the campus library in search of the book you needed, but much to your dismay, the librarian informed you that both copies they had at your campus were checked out and any of the copies available for interlibrary loan were unavailable as well.  She must have seen the absolute desperation in your eyes, because she had asked you to wait a moment while she made a few calls. Eventually, she told you that the local library had one copy left and they would be willing to hold it for you, but you had to pick it up today.

You finally trudged up to the library, taking in the old building.  Truthfully, you hadn't been to this library since before high school, so you were a little surprised that nothing had changed.  You were sure old Mrs. Henson would still be in there, pushing around her squeaky cart filled with returns, shushing anyone who dared breathe too loud, and exhibiting a general disdain for more modern technology.  Outside of the library, Mrs. Henson was a sweet old lady, but in the library she was an old crone. Reaching out, your grabbed the door handle, the metal cool against you skin. You pulled the door open and stepped inside, stopping in shock when you took in the interior of the library. 

As much as the exterior of the library had stayed the same, the interior might as well have been a whole new building.  The whole inside of the library was updated. In one corner there was a circle of computers for patrons to use, the lighting had been replaced, the books on tape were now books on CD, or little mp3-esque handheld devices that you could check out, not to mention the multitude of shelves in the library.  The selection had multiplied more than you could have imagined. The shelves were so full, but not stuffed and very tidy. You took a couple of shocked steps forward, gaping at the changes in the library. You were staring transfixed across the room at the once blank back wall now covered in a beautiful mural depicting a bird's eye view of the town when you heard a soft chuckle.  Your head whipped around in the direction of the circulation desk, and it took all of your willpower to not gape even more.

Behind the circulation desk was not old Mrs. Henson, oh no.  One of the most beautiful men you had ever seen was behind the desk, smiling at the dumbstruck expression on your face. His silver hair was parted off-center over his forward. Wire rim glasses sat atop the bridge of his nose, the lenses framing his lovely, dark eyes. The sleeves of his white button up were rolled up, exposing his tanned forearms. You weren't sure what had possessed this Adonis of a man to become a librarian, but you were sure glad for whatever it was. You had somehow managed to keep your jaw from dropping when you spotted him, but you hadn't kept your brain from becoming unresponsive mush. You realized he was trying to speak to you when the expression on his face morphed from amusement to vaguely concerned.

"Uh, what?" you said, stupidly, internally berating yourself for not paying better attention.

"Can I help you with anything," he asked slowly, a small grin forming on his face.