Checking you Out

Captivated

Simon

I strolled down rows upon rows of books, shelving the ones I held in my arms as I went. Hawthorne, N. Alcott, Louisa May. Melville, Herman. Some may find it tedious, but I never feel more comfortable than when I'm surrounded by books.

I got my degree in Library Science last year, and immediately began working at Cambridge University's library. I usually work during the morning lull (I'm not established enough to handle the midday rush), but today I was put on the later shift. I didn't mind, but I knew it was going to be a long night, and I wasn't particularly looking forward to it.

Especially since the cafeteria had run out of sour cherry scones before I could get there today. I was so used to gobbling up the fresh batch the minute it hit the pastry cabinet at 9:00. Those scones gave me the sugar rush I needed to power through the day. Now I was running on watered-down coffee and four hours of sleep; a rather poor combination.

Baz

The green and blue scarf I had wrapped around my neck did little to protect from the chilly November breeze. I wouldn't be out here in the cold wind if it weren't for my idiot of a roomate. He brings home a different girl every night, nevermind that our beds are five feet apart. Most nights. I just plug my ears or put on headphones, but tonight I couldn't take it. So here I am, trekking like an animal to the campus library at 10:00 at night.

It's not that I dislike the library, I just prefer to do my reading in the solitude of my own room. I huffed as the lights of the library came into view. It was so inhumanely cold that I could see my own breath.

Oh, joy.

Simon

Book after book, cart after cart, I worked well into the night. I was carrying a large stack of textbooks, which happened to obstruct my vision (I'm not short, they were huge books). I continued, trusting my legs to guide me, when I collided with something- or someone.

"Bloody hell!" he, it sounded like a he, exclaimed.

"I'm, oh, I'm so sorry," I stuttered, scrambling to gather the books. "I couldn't see very well."

"Oh, is that so?" the man- no, a student, sneered with an overwhelming lack of sincerity. I looked up to meet his eyes. I was immediately  swept up in a sea of grey that appeared to dip into blue. The kind of eyes that would take years of searching to truly learn all of their secrets.

Captivating.

Baz

It took me a moment to register what had happened. This bungling bookshelver had, not only crashed into me, but knocked all of my books out of my arms. This absolute idiot. I had a right mind to tell him so. He stuttered apologies for a moment, before I cut him off. Someone had to, or he would have been babbling well into the morning.

It was now that I had made the mistake of looking up at he who had led to my literal downfall.

My breath caught.

He was gorgeous.

My eyes were immediately drawn to a mole on his cheek. In no way did it take away from his beauty; it enhanced his features. All of them. I was caught in eyes of an indescribable blue. They weren't an explosion of a multitude of colors, or even various shades of blue; they were simply the bluest blue to ever grace the earth. He also had an unbelievably attractive neck, if such a thing could exist.

And his hair.

Simon

Oh, his hair. It was pitch-black, and slicked back with product, though a few strays had escaped when we smashed into one another. I quite enjoyed the strays. I found I quite enjoyed looking at him, in general.

"I am so sorry," I apologized again, not wanting to tear my eyes away from him. Ever.

He cleared his throat , and appeared to refocus his gaze upon the books. "Yes, well, as you should be."

I could feel my eyebrows raise, practically involuntarily. "Alright." I began to recollect the books. Unfortunately, he decided to at the exact same time, as well.

Baz

This idiot bashed his perfectly shaped skull into mine. We both jumped back: me, expertly concealing the throbbing in my head, and him wincing like someone had bitten him in the neck.

"I'm sorry," he apologized again. Merlin, he apologized a lot.

"I should hope so. First you stumble into me and knock the books from my arms, then you try and crack my skull open."

He looked surprised. "Okay, I was only trying to pick up the books." Somebody was getting defensive.

"Or you were trying to steal mine."

"In case you hadn't noticed: I work in a library." I rolled my eyes. The nerve of this man! "And why would I want to steal Beyond the Pleasure Principle?"

I enjoyed reading the works of Freud. Sue me.

I snatched my book out of his hand. "Get your paws off that, thank you very much."

The boy sighed. "Fine. I'm sorry, again." He finished gathering his things, and stomped away, looking rather flustered.

I collected my things, retucked pieces of my hair that had fallen astray, and, as gracefully as I could manage, glided to an empty table.

My books plopped down with a thud, as I slid into a chair. I tried to pick up where I had left off in my treatise, but it was simply no use. All my thoughts revolved around that boy. That stunningly cute boy.

I allowed myself one look around the room, knowing that every second I wasted was torture. My eyes swept across the tables, shelves, students, circulation desk-

Aha! He was pushing a library cart stacked with books out of a backroom. He was thin, I observed, though not what one would call scrawny. The blue polo he had on served as a compliment to his bronze curls. He proceeded to drag the cart near the Historical Fiction section. As long as he remained with his back facing me, I could stare at him all evening long. I quite enjoyed this view.

Simon

I tried to keep my mind on the books I was shelving, but it was simply no use. His face seemed to be engraved into my mind, something I was not unfond of. The minute I had gotten back to the circulation desk, I spun back around, desperate to establish where he was sitting.

Not wanting him to catch me ogling, I made myself busy, and carried on shelving books.

My mind raced as I subconsciously put the hardcover stories away. I had never really been so swept off my feet by another man as this one had done so to me. For a little while, now, I had been struggling with my sexuality. Penny believes that's what cause things to fizzle out between my long-time girlfriend, Agatha, and me, but I think we just grew apart.

But who knew if he even was gay? And besides, he hadn't exactly extended an overwhelming amount of kindness and sympathy towards me earlier.

I resolved to give him one more look, before putting him off my mind.

Rather than slowly crane my neck to get a peek at him, I practically snapped my head to the right, pointedly looking right at him, only to find him, chin rested on his hand, staring back at me.