The Secrets Within Pages

Unfinished Business

"I can feel you staring, Golding. Frankly, its quite unsettling." I say in between scribbles on parchment.

"My, what's got you working so tirelessly?" He questions, walking closer to me as if his cover was blown.

"Plotting your demise." I say, gaze still fixed on my books.

"It must be frustrating for you to be exerting yourself like this when I come along, the epitome of non-chalance and I still beat you." He whispers the last part in my ear to aggravate me just a smidge bit more.

"You know, it's baffling." I say, flipping through pages of papers amongst an ocean of scattered books as I look for my pen.

"What is?" He asks, passing it to me.

"Your audacity." I shoot him a look.

He throws his head back in laughter, bright teeth flashing as his dimples deepen. I couldn't stop the slight smile that creeped up.

"Laugh it up, Golding. When I best you, we'll see whose got a stupid grin on then." I reply smoothly, organising my desk.

"So, you've noticed my stupid grin?" He smirks, raising his brows as his body relaxes in the seat, legs spread.

I roll my eyes and run a hand through my hair before rubbing my face wearily, trying hard to keep my eyes awake.

He looks at me for a moment, scanning my droopy eyes and slouchy posture, before rising out of his seat and leaving wordlessly.

There was this unspoken quality about the library. The quiet, no one is expected to do anything or look any certain way, its just you and the books and the knowledge that dances around you, urging to be read, to be unveiled and drank from the lips of wanderers thirsty for the secrets of the past, the answers to questions that spiral in their hearts.

Moments later, Silas reappears. This time with two cups of coffee in his hand.

"Is that a-" I begin.

"A large iced vanilla mocha with three shots of coffee. If you want to beat me, you need all the energy you can get." He remarks with a wink.

I sit there, dumbfounded. "You bought me coffee?"

"I may be an arse but I play fair, Burroughs." He says, taking a sip of his steaming black espresso.

I shake my head, smiling.

"Whose got on the stupid grin now?" He quips.

I playfully nudge his head away, chuckling. "You're such a fool."

His gaze falls on the cup, almost abashed. I catch his eyes, his enchanting brown eyes, they seize me for a moment-

How I enjoy being their prisoner.

The sweetness of the memory, of the dream that it became slowly encourages me awake. I open my eyes to a wooden ceiling with strong, timber beams. Sleep-drunk and weary, I look down at the bed I lay in as last night hits me like a rude-awakening. Immediately, I jolt upward and look beside me to find-

That bastard.

Silas sleeps on a chair near me.

I gripped the sheets as I stare at him. The harsh movements slightly wake him up. He must've been up all night.

I stared at him. He stared at me.

Disbelief contorted my face.

"Eleanor." He slowly rose toward me.