There's just a particular aesthetic in a library that keeps me coming back every time. The grandiose architecture, the potent aroma of vanilla flowers and almonds, just about anything and everything you could describe to someone about a library is yet another reason why I keep coming here. And my visits aren't a recent thing, I've been coming for a year and a half now since my job became lax about hours in-office. The moment my boss gave me the go ahead to spend most of my time outside the workplace, I've come here to start, finish, or end new books.

I make my way through the grand mahogany doors, greeted with a familiar sight at the end of the main hall. A small mousegirl works, her hair tied up in a frazzled bun and kept together with long pins that look almost as old as the clothes she's wearing. Though her movements are frantic, the uneasy upturn of her lips betray an enjoyment in her work and lifestyle—however reclusive it can sometimes be. One of her large ears twitch at a particularly loud footstep I make, her eyes dart up from her paperwork. They glint with recognition—It seems she's happy to see me. She waves me towards a table where she sits, looking down at some sort of report. "Anon!" Her voice is hushed, but it still carries over the hum of the air conditioner units overhead. "How are ya?"

"Good." I take a seat next to her. The moment I do, she reaches out and touches my arm. Her fingers run along the fabric of my sleeve like they're trying to find something on the inside. I feel her breath on my skin. "What brings you here today? You don't usually visit so frequently," she says.

"Well," I trail off, unsure how to answer this question. "My schedule got kind of lax recently, and I needed somewhere quiet to relax without being disturbed by anyone."

Nadine nods knowingly. "That sounds like your typical behavior. So what book did you pick out?"

"Actually, I didn't bring a book. I just wanted to talk. With you."

She turns away from her desk to face me, a surprised look on her furry features. Her face cycles through several emotions next, and she seems unable to decide which one she wants to express. Finally she settles for saying: "You want to talk with me? Like, uhm, about what?"

I shrug, keeping my conduct calm so as to not worry her. "About anything. Whatever you'd like to talk about. We could just sit here and chat, or we could go to another part of the library, or we could head to a cafe and get some tea. Or we could just walk around the city. I have no plans, and you don't seem busy. What would you like to do?"

Her eyes widen slightly. "Oh! Uh, that's great!" She smiles, but her ears are still drooping. I can see the wheels turning in her mind, considering all the options. "I guess I want to