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Pushing open the heavy door to the library, I'm greeted with warm and slightly less-than-fresh air, but I've long since gotten used to that. Studying here for the past few months has made me patient in that sense, although I am one who is sensitive to smells and not wanting it to be too hot. But as a student, I guess you don't have much to choose from and you have to settle for what you get.


I walk through the rows, trying to make as little noise as possible, though my chunky shoes seem to draw all eyes to me. Walking to the table where I have been sitting for the last few weeks until my bum started to hurt, I see that two other students are already sitting at the table.


Not being present for the last few days must have given our usual seat to others and I pull my eyebrows together in confusion because Irina said she was in the library, which is why I assumed she was sitting at the table that is by the window and has the best lighting. I take my phone out of my pocket to ask her.


Me:
I am in the library
Where are you?


I wait for a few seconds until the screen switches off by itself and look around while waiting for a message from her. It doesn't take her as long to reply as it did at first, and I appreciate that. At least I don't have to check all the time to see if I got a reply from her.


Plus in the evenings when we are talking about random things sometimes it's more fun because it feels like we are having a normal conversation and I find myself rereading our chat and laughing like an idiot. She is a fun person, although sometimes I think she doesn't mean some things as a joke at all. Also, she doesn't use those annoying emojis after every sentence like I remember from other girls I used to text with.


Irina:
I am also in the library
At the tables behind the 17th shelf


Smiling to myself, I turn to the left and head for the tables Irina just told me she was at. There I spot her alone, well not quite alone, because a few tables away are her bodyguards. My steps slow down the moment she flips her hair over her left shoulder, exposing the right side of her neck.


She seems to be very concentrated, her eyebrows are drawn together and the pen in her hand glides smoothly over the paper in front of her as her fingers work on it. The way she writes quickly shows how ambitious she is to finish her work in the shortest yet neatest way possible. Despite this, however, she has one of the most elegant handwriting I've seen, which makes me a bit jealous, because if I wrote that fast, everything would look slapdash.


"Hey." I greet, my voice soft and low so I don't startle her as I drop my belongings on the floor next to the table.


"Hi." she greets back, a small smile written on her lips as she looks up at me from her paper for a few seconds. "Our usual seat was taken today."


"Yes, I saw it. What a disrespect, I didn't engrave my name on the table for nothing." I joke and she gives a short laugh.


"That's rioting, Mr.Jeon." she points out, pointing the pen in her hand in my direction, her eyebrows raised in amusement.


I smile, shaking my head, and unpack my books and notebooks from my backpack. It's refreshing that we get along so much better than usual after Namjoon's death. Sure, it took time for her to let me get close to her, but I think she realized herself that she needs some company now and then that isn't the two men who follow her everywhere every day.


Maybe it was also my repellent attitude when I got tired of her ignorance because as soon as I didn't pay attention to her, she started talking to me of her own accord, which then led to us spending more time together. I have to admit that I would like to hang out with her more, without it involving college or the library or having that Taehyung guy staring holes in my head, but I don't know if it's a good idea.


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