The Progression Of Relation

I saw him through the window. It was the same as every week, he would make his way up to the entrance, shoulders hunched, tightening a hoodie or pulling his cap down to cover his eyes. It was as if he was afraid people might see that he was returning another novel, like if anyone found out that he enjoyed reading all those years of building up his social resume would crumble right beneath him, dragging him to the depths of what I assume he was afraid would be unpopularity. I thought it was silly that he cared so much, but then again I wasn't one to have an opinion on his social status anymore , or his obsession with it.