wriothesley, who sees you struggling and jumping to get a book from the library. it teeters on the top shelf – you almost get it – but with a slip of your fingers, you push it back in. a sigh of defeat and a looming sense of maybe-i'll-come-back-another-time surrounds you. it's not worth it...
a sturdy, gloved hand grabs your waist and you hear a grunt, followed by the soft thud of boots.
"was this the book you were looking for?" he smiles, pressing the book into your hands. oh, beautiful stranger. you swore that he smiled and you felt your heart drop.
"thank you," you whisper, dusting off the cover. "how did you know this was the one?"
he lets out a light laugh.
"i saw you trying to catch it, but it just got pushed in further," you feel your heart stop. "i would have gotten it for you earlier, but i didn't want to look stupid in front of you."
"oh archons, did i already make a fool of myself?" he chuckles.
"no, no- ah, what's your name?"
"wriothesley. i study criminology." he extends a polite hand.
"well, mr wriothesley," you begin, overcome by a rare moment of shameless bravery – maybe foolishness, even.
"if you're that concerned about not wanting to look like a member of this place's comedy club, i'd be more than happy to have a re-do our first meeting." you finish, beaming and clutching your chosen read close to your chest. he barks out a soft laugh, then extends his hand again, which you firmly shake.