Short Story | First Encounter at the Library

 By Eurielle

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First Encounter at the Library

It was not something I always do even when I love books; however, I found myself in the campus library on the evening of our first encounter. 

It was not the typical guy-approaches-girl-who-reads-in-the-corner or guy-and-girl-reaches-for-the-same-book first encounter. 

It was when I saw you at the neighboring aisle of tall bookshelves between the gaps of various books about this world’s history.

You are looking for a reference book for your Japanese-American World War II concentration camps paper, browsing so seriously that you never seem to notice me.  

It was fascinating, really, looking at you. I might be biased, but I felt that you’re one of the most beautiful humans I’ve ever seen - barring those idols and celebrities I found myself watching from time to time. I couldn’t believe my eyes, and then I felt ashamed.

I thought, with my careless personality, that I wouldn’t care if I looked pretty in another person’s eyes. I thought, with my negative regard for romantic relationships, that I wouldn’t fall in love so easily. I thought I wouldn’t be one of those people who gets attracted to physical appearances but instead adored the inner nature of a person. But alas, I seemed to be one of those shallow types of people who only cared about outer vessels.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that. It’s true that physical appearances were really what attracted people the most initially. There were times when people would think beauty is equal to kindness or talent or general outstanding characteristics. An angelic face meant the person also had an angelic personality. 

But was that true? Some. Not at all times. Why, back in elementary, I had a crush on this guy and he was the most handsome in our whole class, but then wasn’t his personality actually sucked that one time? 

Although I didn’t mean to bring him up in this narrative. I still think you were much better than him. Although you seemed serious, the quiet type of a man, there was a gentle aura coming from you that charmed me. I would take a couple of glances at you. Mind you, I never did this before. 

But before I could admire you more, you seem inclined to return to your desk. I forced myself to focus on my own list of references. Returning to my own desk, I was surprised you sat next to mine. What was this coincidence? Or, to hope upon the stars, a destiny?

I cautiously approached my seat like a mouse afraid to break the silence which surrounded us. Within this corner of the library, on its third floor, there were only you and me. I set my books down while biting my lips. I still didn’t understand why I was so anxious at that time. 

It was my most magical night.

Moon and sun exchange hi and hello for more than a month. The semester was ending. I thought I would never see you again. Shockingly, I was still the same old me even when I fell in love with you - shy, inactive, and totally pessimistic about love. 

But my negativity did not stop me from visiting the library nearly every night, sitting on the same spot, letting my night pass by doing assignments and projects while waiting for you to show up. Yet you never did. 

You never did until three nights before the final week. 

Friday. As usual, I entered the library’s elevator from the main floor and pushed the third-floor button with anticipation. Since you’ve never returned since that one time, I didn’t have any hope that you’d ever be. 

Yet you did. 

But I didn’t expect it to be like this.

When I arrived at our secret corner - debatable since it was a public area - I found my seat already occupied by another person’s backpack. I was disappointed. Why, of all times, did someone use my reserved seat when it might be my last evening (this semester, at least) after a month-long availability. I couldn’t complain because the owner was not there.

I was annoyed. However, I managed to calm myself and rationally thought that this might be time for me to sit on your chair. The one you’ve used that evening. That night I fell in love.

I put my belongings down, then went to check that bookshelf again. I was pacing back and forth looking through the gaps like that first encounter we had. But you weren’t there. Giving up, I rounded the corner, and to my astonishment, you were there.

You were smiling brightly. You were laughing silently. You seemed to be enjoying yourself. You look more ethereal now.

Then you reached out your right arm. And you tucked a hair behind the ear. And you tightened your hold on those hands. 

And I heard my heart break.

You reached out your right arm across and caressed her sweet, pretty face. From her cheek, you tucked her mischievous hair behind her small ears. You brought down your arm and took a hold of her dainty hands and tightened your hold.

And I was there witnessing them all. I was there when you leaned in to put butterfly kisses on her lips. I was there when you saw each other eye-to-eye, forehead-to-forehead. I was there.

I wished I was not there. 

 I wished.

Oh, how I wished.