Kyungsoo likes to spend the last half hour of his shift reshelving books, but he usually gets distracted by something new, something he hasn't seen before, and ends up skimming through it right then and there between the shelves.

Today he's found a book about decoding the meanings of different colors and types of flowers. There's not any particular reason he needs this information - it isn't like he cares about flowers or is in a position to send anyone flowers lately - but that's the fun thing about reading, in his opinion. You can learn about things for the sake of learning.

"Red sage," he murmurs, entranced. "Red sage means 'forever mine.'" Kyungsoo thinks that sounds absolutely beautiful, but to be honest, he wouldn't recognize a red sage if somebody gifted him one. Still, it would be nice to receive one.

He's always been a romantic, one of the few boys in his grade school who dreamt of his wedding day and the family he would have. He's always had a soft spot for romcoms and shojo manga and paperback romance novels. Even love songs make him feel a little fuzzy sometimes. And now… flowers. He turns the page to a chapter all about roses.

Around him, the library is filled with the soft, pleasant buzzing of low conversations. The stereotype of a silent library has never made sense to Kyungsoo. A library is a place to learn and share knowledge and ideas, and listening to exchanges like that is incredibly comforting. He hears the sliding doors at the entrance whoosh open and closed, hears the turning of pages, hears the soft tapping of fingers on keyboards.

This is his home.

He continues to idly flip through the pages and pages of flowers, but his mind is elsewhere. He's making a mental list of things to do after work - groceries, feed the neighborhood cats, maybe cook dinner if he's feeling up for it, or maybe just ordering in - when the background buzzing of library patrons gets louder.

"Who is that?"

"Look at him! He's so tall!"

A table of high school students seem to be gawking at someone, and Kyungsoo looks up from the book and peeks around the corner. Sure, he's a little nosy, but it's his job to know what's going on in the library, right?

A man, tall and dark-haired, is at the circulation desk, leaning forward and saying something to Sehun. As usual, Sehun looks disinterested and unimpressed, and whatever he says back to the mysterious man doesn't seem to satisfy him in the slightest. 

“What are you saying?”

The man is raising his voice now, and a few other library patrons fall silent, either eavesdropping or concerned. Kyungsoo, sensing that things are heading south, hurriedly places the book on flowers and speed walks back to the front of the library.

“I know he works here, I know he does. I just want to talk.” Frustration laces his voice. This man is no threat, and that bit of knowledge puts Kyungsoo at ease, just slightly.

Kyungsoo clears his throat. “Is there a problem, sir?”

He turns to Kyungsoo.

Lavender rose, he recalls subconsciously. Love at first sight.

//

So as not to cause a scene in the library, Kyungsoo leads the man out of the library and to the bench on the side of the building. The sky is grey today and there’s a slight chill in the air, signaling the coming of autumn. “What do you need from me?” he asks almost immediately after sitting down.

“I’m sorry?” The man looks confused.

“You were asking for me and looking for me. I’d like to know what you need from me,” says Kyungsoo awkwardly. Generally, people don’t come into the library asking for a specific librarian, and this entire situation makes him feel weird and kind of nervous.

“My name is Jongin,” says the man, fishing his phone out of his pocket. He stops talking for a moment as he scrolls through his phone, apparently looking for something, and then - “Aha, here.” He turns the phone towards Kyungsoo and holds it out before asking, “Did you write this?”

Squinting a bit, Kyungsoo leans forward, and a cold feeling of dread starts to spread in his chest. It’s his review of What is Love.

“Y-yes…” Kyungsoo doesn’t see a point in lying. He’s been reviewing books on his own personal book blog since he was sixteen under the name of D.O., a play on his name. His blog, aptly named D.O. Reads, started out as a whim when he just wanted to write a review, and over the past six years, it’s gained enough traction to have a few hundred subscribers on his mailing list. But nobody has ever came up to him in public, shoved the blog in his face, and asked if it was him.

Jongin is giving him a strange, hard look. “You wrote this.” It’s a statement, and Kyungsoo nods. “You wrote this about my book.”

The words don’t click in Kyungsoo’s head for a moment. His book? His book? “I wrote this… about Kai’s book,” he says slowly. “What is Love, by Kai.” Somewhere in the back of his mind, the gears are turning.

“My book.” Jongin - Kai? - whoever he is - scowls. “You talk about how I can't write a good love story, about how I've obviously never even been on a date," he says, his dark eyes glinting in a way that makes Kyungsoo's heart race in a way that doesn’t make sense. “You trashed my book online to all of your readers.”

Kyungsoo has never thought about the other side of reviewing books - that is, what the authors themselves might think. He’s never had to think of it until… now, apparently. Swallowing, he manages to force out the words, “I gave my honest thoughts and opinions.” His voice shakes. He’s never been confronted in person like this.

Sure, he’s gotten some comments and emails about readers who disagree with his reviews, and some of them have been aggressive, but never has a reader shown up to his place of work in person and demanded to see him.

“About how my book was garbage.”

Lifting his chin in the smallest act of defiance, Kyungsoo responds, “I don’t believe it’s even your book.”

The wind kicks up again around them, and while Kyungsoo pulls his oversized cardigan closer around his chest, Jongin doesn’t even seem to notice the chill in the air, despite the fact that his shirt looks thin. “Why would I lie about this? You made me out to be some… some pathetic loner, somebody who doesn’t know the first thing about a relationship.”

“That isn’t what I meant,” he responds weakly, but the words go unheard.

“So show me how to write romance.” Jongin leans forward and gives Kyungsoo a hard, determined look. “Give me something to write about.”

As he’s leaning in, Kyungsoo takes a deep breath in, and the smell of mahogany and teakwood overwhelms his senses. Jongin’s eyes are the darkest brown, nearly black, and for some reason, Kyungsoo can’t look away.

Valerian herb, he thinks. For willingness.