Romancing the Tome

Part 1

"Anytime," Jimin calls – followed by the soft thud of him sitting down in his chair.

When you glance at your watch, you see the time is 10:15 AM. Your next appointment is twenty minutes early, which is strange. Then again, your field is not exactly filled with usual people.

Reaching your door brings about a second surprise, though – feet faltering, you come to a stop.

The door to your office is closed.

Glancing over your shoulder, you frown again. Typically, your door remains shut but not if someone is waiting inside. It's s odd, for your 10:30 AM to enter your office – entirely alone – and shut the door to the hall. Peering through the frosted glass, you see no one inside. Concern growing, you slowly push open the frame.

Nothing seems amiss – your office is empty. Taking a careful step, your gaze sweeps the empty corners. No one is sitting at your desk, no one sits behind it either. No one is standing at the windows, nor by the wall.

Just as your worry grows, you hear a toilet flush.

Through sheer force of luck, your office has its own bathroom. It's the only one on your floor; you inherited it when the previous occupant vacated for a two-year dig in Cairo. None of the other professors use your bathroom, so you deduce the incumbent must be your mysterious guest.

The door flies open, hitting the wall – as though the man exiting didn't realize its weight.

Glancing up, the man meets your gaze from beneath dark, unruly hair. His expression is quizzical, something you're accustomed to – you work daily with librarians and scholars. His demeanor is strange though, as though you're the one trespassing in his office, not the other way around.

"I..." Glancing past him, words fail you. "What were you doing in there?"

Coming to a stop, the man quirks a brow. "I was using the bathroom," he says, resuming his stride across your office. "What did it look like I was doing?"

You remain frozen while the man sits in your chair, easily crossing one leg over the other. Forcing yourself to move, you shake your head to clear the cobwebs of conversation.

Stopping behind your desk, you look at your guest. "It looked like you invited yourself into my office to use the bathroom. An act typically frowned upon in most social situations."

"Ah." He holds up a finger. "Not true. In Scotland, it used to be law that if a stranger knocked on the door to your toilet, you were obligated to let him enter. How's that for societal norms regarding bathroom privacy?"

You stare in disbelief. "Debunked," you say at last, lowering into your chair. "Complete nonsense, probably stemming from the fact that Scotland has the reputation of being overly hospitable. Where have you been," you ask, incredulity seeping into your tone, "that you believe hogwash like that?"

His lips twitch. "The Amazon doing fieldwork. Strange, how urban legends spread, isn't it?"

You stare at him a moment. "But – you're the one spreading the rumors," you point out, wondering if this man is fully sane. "People like you are the ones spreading rumors! You waltz into the offices of strangers, sit down and spout nonsense, pretending its fact!"

"Ah, right. I did do that – didn't I?" Unconcerned, the man leans back in his seat. "Nice office."

"Okay," you say, cutting him off. "Why are you here?"

"Your receptionist didn't tell you?"

"No." Annoyed, you tap your fingers on top of the desk. "I usually request Jimin doesn't. I've found it more productive to ask people what they want."