library

@⬙ ﹕ tempest. Are the flowers too much?

The flowers might be too much.

Woohyun stares at the bouquet of dark purple roses and baby's breath in his hand. In a moment of panic he throws them into the public trash can next to him. He walks away, and then ten seconds later he walks back and fishes the bouquet out. It seems unharmed and still smells like flowers, so it should be fine!

He rounds the corner of the street to the library as if he hasn't spent the last half an hour dilly-dallying on the adjacent road so he could work up the courage to actually go to there. You'd think he would be used to this by now considering how often he's stopped at the library ever since he found out she was there. Yuying. Just the thought of her has Woohyun feeling a bit winded, and he nearly slaps his own face to kick himself out of his stupor. Such is the plight of a lovesick fool.

As he jogs up the steps to the library Woohyun tells himself that he'll just drop off the flowers and maybe chat with Yuying for a bit. And hey, maybe this time she'll actually speak to him! With more than one or two words!

When he enters the library he looks around and spots her nearby. Suddenly shy, Woohyun hides half of his face behind the bouquet as he makes his way over to Yuying. He doesn't want to disturb her too much since he knows she's working. He tells himself, 'Just give her the flowers and keep the conversation to five minutes or less, you can do this, Woohyun.'

"Yuying!" he says, a little too excitedly as an older patron shushes him immediately. Woohyun ducks his head and makes sure to lower his voice. "Hi, um, I just wanted to- uh-" Oh, God, he's messing it up again. "For you!" He shoves the bouquet toward her and closes his eyes. He opens one of them to see if she'll take it.

@⬙ ﹕ puppeteer. Dalbit truly doesn't run out of words. Yuying wonders briefly in the back of her mind whether this is a talent or a curse. "Are you trying to ask me out for a drink?" she asks, as though she doesn't already know the answer to this. She still can't understand his perspective about all of this. Is this a thing the younger generations do? Is there an appeal in wanting to deal with an older woman who might not even understand what they're talking about anyway?

Especially /her/, who has become so detached from the world outside her books. It's strange, but Dalbit himself is quite a peculiar man, so she supposes that this shouldn't have come out as too much of a surprise.

The analogy he uses, however, does garner a shift in Yuying's usually deadpan visage. She isn't so well-versed in this... area, so to speak, but she wonders if he's aware of the implications of his words; if he's deliberately saying it in this way knowing full well how she'll take it. (Does he even know her that well? Is this the usual for him, to act so nonchalantly toward others? She isn't one to let others in easily, and yet he seems determined to bring down those walls. For what? What is the point? She is far better off like this: numb.)

"You should really think twice before you say anything," is what she settles for eventually. "Do you make it a habit to deliberately make your companions misunderstand you?" she continues, before walking to where the stack of books to be returned stood. She takes the books in her hands, turning her back on Dalbit with the intention of going back inside, but she stops in her steps.

"Coffee," she says quietly. He might not hear it properly, but she's decided that's no longer her problem. "I prefer coffee."

@⬙ ﹕ tempest. It’s an exaggeration, he knows, but as someone who has dealt with some… toxin exposure before (with at least one instant he can attribute to his damn mandatory training—thanks a lot government folks!), Dalbit sure as hell can only imagine a handful of things he’d rather drink poison over. It’s one of the many fun (?) facts about him that he keeps to himself well, but something about Yuying nearly gave him half a mind to start blabbering about it. “Well, you know what they say about alcohol being the greatest toxin known to mankind or whatever.” He doesn’t even remember where he got that saying from, or whether or not it even exists and isn’t something he made up on the spot. He quite likes the idea, though. “Or if that isn’t your thing, we can go for coffee, too. I kinda prefer it over booze, actually. Coffee doesn’t make you call in sick the next morning ‘cause you can’t curb that hangover.”

Her shadow is still, unwavering, even as he shortens the distance between them. He’s had enough experience with people for this to not be the first time he receives such reaction, but it makes his lips quirk all the same. He moves his attention from the shadow to the shift in her expression. Reading into finer details doesn’t come as easy, unfortunately—there seems to be something going on in Yuying’s mind, but he quickly gives up on decoding it.

Even if he doesn’t, the hand on his face would have cut his attempt short anyway. “I have a name, you know, and it’s not *brat*!” Dalbit whines into her palm in protest. Okay, maybe he is being a bit of a brat, but his point still stands! He switches up his position—this time he leans his entire weight on the pillar and only sticks his head out to not-so-subtly peek on her. “And I do hang out with all my friends who are of similar age, mind you!” He agonizes over the way she decided not to take this bit about him seriously, out of everything else. “How ‘bout we put it this way: there are tons of books in this library, right? And yet you chose that particular one to read. Why, when you’ve got thousands to choose from? That’s how I feel about wanting to hanging out with you, Yuying.”

And nope, he does not know what he just said! Does he regret it? Debatable. All he knows is that he really, *really* does not have a knack for improvising metaphors—and perhaps that is his cue to read more books for good.

@⬙ ﹕ puppeteer. The innuendo is not lost on Yuying, which is unfortunate in her opinion. She keeps her gaze at the man, visage morphed into an expression that shows her disbelief. She can't tell whether to raise an eyebrow at his audacity, daring enough to make such a comment towards her—/her/—of all people, or make a face, because that comment /is/ for her. "I'd rather drink poison, Dalbit," comes her deadpan answer.

That—Well, it was an unexpected comment. While she's used to the younger man's flirty demeanor, she also feels inclined to reject any sort of advances. For one, she knows that she's likely much older than him. He should be mingling with his peers, the ones he seems to be getting defensive all over, rather than her, a woman older by likely more than a couple of years.


She doesn't lean away when he leans in, keeping her gaze on him, studying the expressions that so easily flicker upon his countenance. Her eyebrows furrow then. Is he... asking her out? It's rare she sees someone this persistent when it comes to wanting her company, and she wonders if he's doing this deliberately for the taste of a chase or a thrill.

And so, with an exasperated sigh, she places a hand on his face, pushing him away. "Where are you even getting this confidence, brat?" she asks, though she isn't really looking for an answer. "Go ask your friends out instead. Hang out with people your age. The way you're being all over me makes me think like you don't really have as many friends as you're insinuating."

@⬙ ﹕ tempest. One day, Dalbit promises to himself, one day he will understand the appeal of reading, but today is certainly not the day. He’s read to the kids at school, of course, and he does enjoy the occasional fables and fairytales (and The Little Prince—he’d finally gotten around to read it when he first started his duties as Puppeteer and he had to spend the rest of his day off in bed contemplating his entire life), but there is a difference between sitting down quietly for hours with some pretentious dishing out big words like “juxtaposition” or “amalgamation” every two sentences and acting out Three Little Pigs to a bunch of five year olds. He’d like to think that he excels at the latter. Sometimes he equips his performance with shadow puppets too, and the kids are always too mesmerized to even think about how he could make so many of them within seconds.

He wonders if Yuying would be fascinated by that kind of stuff, too. Well, he can’t exactly adapt whatever it is she’s reading into an impromptu puppet show even if he wanted to—but he’s not even sure that he *does* want it. For now, he can afford to play the bratty library troublemaker for another day. Another week. Perhaps even for as long as they know each other.

Shame. He’s a damn good actor, if he could say so himself.

“Whoa, wait, what do you mean *you can see it*?” Her sarcasm isn’t lost on him, of course, but that doesn’t stop Dalbit from pressing her for details. “But see, wouldn’t that make me a much better company than books? They say that books can transport you into a different world, make you experience stuff you can’t experience otherwise, yadda yadda yadda, but think about it—I, too, can offer you things you can never get in books with my… *novel* endeavors.”

The flirtatious demeanor doesn’t last long though, as Yuying’s verbal jab is met with a scrunched nose. “I’ll have you know that I’ve got *plenty* of friends!” he exclaims—or says as loudly as he can without attracting too much attention from the poor library patrons. He’s got the band, for one. A few other people he became friendly with over the years. People he worked with as Puppeteer—wait, why is he getting so defensive over it? “But taste or not, I like your company, Yuying! Even if you ignore me for your books or for straight-up nothing at times, I think you’re great.” He looks around, making sure that no one else is within earshot, before he leans in closer and says, “Great enough for me to want to take you out for a drink sometime.” A smirk. “What do you say?”

@⬙ ﹕ puppeteer. The whine does catch Yuying off-guard, and she can't help the way she easily makes a face, as though she's looking at a kid she doesn't know how to appease. "Maybe books are better company than you, brat," she says in a deadpan manner, without any true emotion behind her words. There are barely any reasons for her to entertain the younger man. For one, she has never been the best company, and not many preferred her when it comes to talking partners either. So she doesn't really understand Dalbit's insistence on being by her side, and his desire to keep talking to her despite her lack of... enthusiasm, so to speak. She does roll her eyes, however, at the pun that he most /certainly/ did not intend.

"Sure, you are," she drawls out, sarcasm dripping from her tongue. "A man of novel endeavors. I can see it."

At this point, she supposes she should get used to it. If Dalbit is going to bother her every day, as it seems to be something he's decided without her consent, then she should learn how to get used with it. Noise isn't necessarily a part of the routine she's taken with her life, and Dalbit... he introduces a type of chaos that she isn't too familiar with, and she doesn't know how to deal with it. To live with it.

Has she met someone who's been this persistent? (Perhaps she has. And what has she done with it? Ruin it, the way she's ruined everything else for herself.)

With an exasperated sigh, she waves a hand dismissively at the other. "If it's my company that you want, then you've got taste. I recommend you change it," she says rather roughly. "Don't you have friends? No? Is that why you're all over me instead?" she asks, an eyebrow raised, arms crossed by her front.

@⬙ ﹕ tempest. “Ever since you started ignoring me for your books!” Dalbit whines without missing a beat, bottom lip protruding like a child who has been refused their favourite candy. He watches her put his stupid book away—presumably to the returned books pile, which he wasn’t expecting but is grateful for anyway. At least he doesn’t have to make that awkward walk of shame to either check it out or return it to its shelf, whether or not he finally scores that date upon leaving the building. He’d pick a different book to “steal” next time he comes around for sure; perhaps he should take a look at what Yuying is reading? That is, if he even knows where to start searching. “Just trying to see the appeal, y’know? I’m a man who’s constantly in pursuit of novel endeavours—no pun intended.”

He tears his gaze off the library guard to scan the main reading hall, and returns to her with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t think you’re supposed to encourage me to be even more of a nuisance in the library, but sure.” The last bit is a joke, of course—his troublemaker days are over, and even if it wasn’t, his definition of trouble doesn’t exactly entail being a library menace. He’d like to think of himself as a man of dignity, although Yuying would probably laugh at his face if he voices the thought out loud. Not that he’d blame her if she does: striking up meaningless conversations whenever she’s on shift and proceeding to set off the theft alarm when ignored are *anything* but dignified behaviour. “My entertaining self?” he echoes. “Why, I’d take that as a compliment. This is the nicest you’ve ever been to me in… well, in ages.”

Sometimes Dalbit does worry that he’s going to get Yuying into trouble for chatting her up during her shifts, and he would feel apologetic should that be the case, but in his defense, he’s asked her out on a casual date a tad too many times to count and to this day they still haven’t been on a single one. And he’s not a douchebag—he knows not to overstep his boundaries and picks up on other people’s discomfort fairly well; if Yuying genuinely wants him gone, she could have easily banned him from the library if he hasn’t already taken the hint. But here he is, still very much welcomed in the building with open arms (maybe not hers, but his library card still granted him access as of two hours ago), and so far he hasn’t been escorted (dragged) out of it… yet. “I’m happy to return the compliment, though—I find you entertaining too, if you don’t already know that.” He makes sure to throw in his signature wink between his words. “What if it’s just your company that I want?”

@⬙ ﹕ puppeteer. Yuying can only raise an eyebrow at Dalbit's words. She shouldn't be the one to blame if she says that she finds it difficult to believe the other; somehow that glint of mischief in his eyes, painting even over the smile he hasn't let go of yet, tells her everything she needs to know. "I didn't peg you to be such an avid reader," she comments, before she pushes the book he's just set on the counter to another nearby pile. "I wonder when that changed."

A jest, if he can notice it. It isn't as if she hasn't noticed how frequently he has been visiting the library, his face becoming a familiarity. There are those readers, of course, who come and visit the library often, but there are also those who visit twice, only to borrow and return a book. From what she has seen from him, he isn't too much of a reader type. Or, he doesn't look like it. She isn't too certain.

She tilts her head almost curiously to the side. "I wasn't aware that you're supposed to be my partner during my shifts." There was almost a hint of a sarcastic smile on her lips, with the way her eyebrows rise. But she sighs instead. "If you want company, then go bother someone else. I'm sure someone out there would want to... entertain your..." A pause, and a look from head to toe, eyebrows furrowing, "... well, your entertaining self." She has to remember to be somewhat polite—this is still a regular visitor of the library. (But is she getting paid enough for this? Perhaps not.)

@⬙ ﹕ tempest. Sure enough, the library guard could not ignore the blaring alarm; Dalbit watches her get up from her seat and leave her booth, his grin turning into one that screams pure mischief. It never occurs to him how tall Yuying is until she walks past him by the exit, with the top of her head scooting past his line of sight even without him having to look down. “So sorry about that ma’am,” he says, this time in a much lower voice. He knows better than to further disturb the other patrons, of course. “Didn’t mean to steal from this lovely place, I promise! It’s just that I was so excited to read this book and forgot that I was supposed to check it out before carrying it home with me.”

He’s also aware that she’s not going to buy that excuse, and neither does he intend to deceive her. Dalbit drops the act and slides the book across her counter, leaning one side of his body against a nearly pillar, with arms folded just below his chest now that he no longer has any use for them. “I see you’ve been occupied these days,” he remarks, casting a glance on the book she had been reading. The title doesn’t ring a bell at all, but perhaps it’s because his only readings for the past few years consist of reference books and kindergarteners misspelling “Wednesday” in their worksheets for the nth time. “It’s been a while since we talked, hasn’t it? Even when I’ve been visiting practically every afternoon after work, but it seems that you’ve found a more interesting partner to accompany you on your shift.” He takes it back—he *does* have a use for his arm, and that is to clutch dramatically on his chest as he says, “I’m a bit hurt, Yuying.”

@⬙ ﹕ puppeteer. A sharp, angry alarm breaks the silence that Yuying had so dearly yearned for each day.

It wasn't as if Yuying's days were... lively. It was the same old routine each day, from morning to evening. But she supposed she had grown accustomed to peace, rarely ever disturbed save for troublemakers who couldn't follow simple library rules, much like the man who had just then tried to take a book out of the place, without checking it out. As if that rule was not written in the ten library rules printed on a large poster, plastered around in multiple copies. There was even one by the entrance.

So surely, this man shouldn't have missed it, unless he was blind. Even kids knew better, and those were kids. She didn't even like kids enough to praise them even over a simple thing.

"Whoops," the man had even said, so deliberately loudly that she knew it was for her to hear—and that one line told Yuying everything she had to know about today's troublemaker.

With a sigh, she closed the book she had been reading, but not without slipping in a bookmark to save the pages. She stood, heading to the exit, and immediately pressing a button on the detectors to stop the invasive noise from bothering the other patrons. With yet another so obviously exhausted sigh, she lifted her gaze from the now quiet alarms to meet the troublemaker's eyes.

"Dalbit," she said, and one could not tell whether she was exasperated or in disbelief, "don't you have enough common sense to know that you're supposed to check books out instead of simply leaving with them?"

@⬙ ﹕ tempest. To be honest, there’s no valid reason for Dalbit to frequent the library anymore. He’s gone through the book in his hand ages ago when he’d just started out his teaching career, and *Introduction to Child Psychology* has certainly not prepared him for a five-year-old asking him why “violets are blue” instead of, as the colour implies, *purple*. Apparently it’s because the colour violet is named after the flower and not the other way around, but his point still stands—that is not something he found out through child psychology reference books.

But that doesn’t mean he has absolutely no reason to make the most out of his library membership. There’s this beautiful lady stationed by the entrance most days, and as detached as she seems whenever he tries to strike a conversation with her, she’s actually been responsive enough to Dalbit’s antics for the young man to take a genuine interest in her. Well, these days she has been ignoring him in favour of her books, but that is precisely why he has this useless book with him. He has not checked it out of the library, so once he gets through the exit, the theft alarm is guaranteed to go off, forcing her to get her nose out of whatever she’s reading and pay some attention to him.

So that is exactly what he does—he waves the book around the exit to trigger the alarm, and surely enough, the gate flashes an angry red light and beeps relentlessly at him. He immediately puts on a sheepish grin as the other library patrons turn curiously to the source of the noise, pretending that he doesn’t know that he can’t just leave the building with whatever book he intends to borrow. “Whoops,” he says, loud enough for the guard—*Yuying*—to hear over the beeps. “You might want to disable that thing first, 'cause it’s starting to annoy people!”