Chanyeol:

I could see sweat on his brow as I lifted the basket from his hands. "Then I suppose I'll be a regular here, where do you want these?"

Holy hell! These books are heavy as bricks! He was carrying these?

"Right over there." He pointed to the place he'd been seated before and I chuckled inwardly, making my way over to the indicated area. Why couldn't he just leave them here in the first place? I dropped the basket where he wanted them and he broke out into a jog, a look of horror on his face.

"Why would you drop them like that! Treat them gently!" I looked down at them. "They're books, they'll be fine. Strong bindings and what not." He had fallen to his knees, a loud crack sounding from the hard floor as his bone collided with the material. "This is a library you dimwit. We treasure books here. It's as if you've thrown the South Korean flag on the floor infront of our President or dropped communion in the trash inside of a Catholic church!"

His voice echoed through the library and several reading occupants in the lounge looked our way. He pressed his hands to his face and turned to me, switching to a fervid whisper. "Look, you've just mistreated an entire basket of things I treasure, can you just go read over there so I can mourn in my own company?"

I kneeled beside him and started pulling out books. "I'll help you instead. Will that make it better?"

He shook his head. "No, of course not, but I could use the help. Just don't be throwing them around." Nodding, I started to group the books by author.

I happened to peer at his nametag. "Baekhyun?"

He looked at me, alarmed. "Yes?"

He's so... moody.

"Nothing, I was just reading your nametag." He paused for a moment, his mouth open as if he wanted to say something. He then snapped his jaw shut and returned to organizing books. We sat on the floor side by side, placing books on the shelf for an other twenty minutes before I broke the silence.

"Do you work here every single day of the week, all day long?" He turned to me, surprised.

"Well... Yeah. I like it here. I'm really only employed through the week, but I volunteer on weekends without pay."

I pressed my brows together. "Wait, so you spend seven hours a day, every day, in the library. Don't you go out at all? Don't you have any hobbies?"

He cocked his head to the side, thinking. "Mmm... I spend time in the mornings playing piano... Of course I do!" I guffawed at him.

"That's all?"

He shrugged. "I mean... I sing. I practice my Hapkido some..."

Hapkido?

"Huh.."

He jutted his lips out. "What?"

Shaking my head, I replied, "You don't really seem like the type to practice martial arts to me..."

He crossed his arms and threw his head back, challenging me. "Oh really. So what are your hobbies then, Mr. Judgemental?" I smiled.

"I'm a barista!" His lips stretched into a wide grin, mocking me.

"Ohhh, so cool. A barista, eh? Is that all?"

I punched his shoulder tenderly and he flinched. He glared at me as he rubbed his arm. "That's not all, you angry ape. I can play the electric guitar, and a few other instruments. I rap, too!"

His left eyebrow rose in a questioning manner. "Rap?"

An irritated reader approached him from behind and tapped him on the shoulder, a book hanging limply from the other hand, pages dangling. "Excuse me, you two are rather loud and I'm trying to read. Can you please take your conversation to a different area?" He whipped his head around and bowed repeatedly, his expression highly apologetic.

"Yes. Yes, I'm sorry. Really. I apologize for disturbing you."

He pushed himself off of the floor and grabbed the back of my collar, dragging me away.