"Just love her... Love will always win."
Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong but rejoices in the...
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THE LIBRARY begins to clear out. Students pack up their stuff and only a few of them remain, sitting down by the corners as they write away, perusing through the pages, seeming desperate to find the answers and references to their questions in those pages.
Lawrence silently watches a few of them. The tension in their shoulders as they probably wonder if they will meet their deadlines, the sloppiness that seems to have seeped through their fingers from hours upon hours of writing and doing research. Lawrence knows first hand how exhausting that is and he is glad he finished his assignments earlier on.
He turns to Hope, who at one point exchanged the book by Lewis with a thesaurus dictionary. He asked her about it and she shrugged, saying that she likes reading it.
She is now leaning back on her seat staring at him. It's strange that he was the one doing it to her earlier and now that the roles are reversed, he almost feels fidgety.
Almost.
He holds her gaze while hers roam his face as she absently taps her fingers on the table. He notices how she swallows every time he smiles, every time he shifts in his seat and how she keeps staring at him when she thinks he is not looking. It only makes him curious because her stare is... different.
It doesn't feel like the stare of someone who likes you or who has a crush on you. It is just different. It's somewhat a hard stare but a longing one all the same. As if it brings her a sense of deja vu.
Curious. Does she look at him and recall whatever it is that went down between she and Col? Is he that tether, that if snapped will bring to her an onslaught of memories? Lawrence hadn't considered it before... but is he a danger to her mental health?
"Can I ask you a question?" Lawrence suddenly speaks, cutting through the silence that had taken to settling over them.
She looks at him and his mind runs through several responses she could give him but he still waits for the one she's going to choose in anticipation.
"You have done that a lot today, don't you think?" She finally speaks.
"Just one more," Lawrence says.
"That's what you said the last four times." Hope shrugs, still tapping her fingers on the table in a non rhythmic tune.
"Now I'm serious." Lawrence leans forward a little.
"It's what you said the last two times." Hope rolls her eyes now. "Your words lack credibility."
"Okay then. Let's play a game." Lawrence leans back smiling.
"Twenty one questions? No thank you." Hope mutters, pinning him with a flat stare.
"Why not?" Lawrence crosses his arms over his chest and he notices the way the movement draws Hope's gaze onto his biceps.
