A Ghost

As I reached for the book on the library shelf, my fingers brushed against its spine, ready to pull it out. However, I felt another hand on the book from the opposite side.

Who could be reaching for the same book?

"Hello?" I whispered. "I'm sorry, do you need this, by any chance?"

Silence greeted me. I decided to pull the book with a bit more force, hoping to dislodge whatever—or whoever—was on the other side. A subtle grunt emanated from the other side of the bookshelf.

"If you don't respond, then I'm taking it for myself," I said to them.

After a brief tug-of-war, the book finally yielded, slipping out of the unseen grip and into my hands.

Glancing around the empty library, I scanned for any sign of movement, but everything remained still and silent.

"Sorry," a man's voice echoed from the other side. "I sort of panicked. I thought you were a ghost."

"A ghost?" I echoed. I tried to hold back my laughter. "I apologize. If you want, you can have it first. I'll just return to get it."

"No, you won it fair and square," the man insisted, his tone tinged with amusement. Peering through the gap between the books, I could only see pale hair. That's rare.

"I'll return it here once I'm done. I'm sorry for the trouble," I said, offering an apologetic smile to the unseen stranger.

After an hour, I went back to the same bookshelf. Still curious, I walked to the other side but didn't see anyone there. All I saw was a ladder and an open book on top of it.

Where did he go?

I shook my head, realizing he wouldn't just be standing there waiting for me.

"Oh," I backed into something solid and turned around to find a man with pale hair. "Were you looking for me?"

He was not what I expected. I imagined a bespectacled gentleman, perhaps, quiet and awkward. Not someone who looks like this, like we were in a tavern instead of a library. "You could say that," I replied.

He leaned on the bookshelf, blocking my way out.

"Here," I handed him the book. "I'm done with it."

"So you are," he smirked slyly. Ugh, I dislike people like this. I know I'm a pretty girl, but flirting with me in a library seems quite inappropriate.

"I'm going now," I made it obviously clear to him that I'm not in the mood for this. He might be handsome, but he sure lacked etiquette. From what I know, only nobles could get in the capital library. This is different from the public library located in the city. "Oh, perhaps you are lost?"

He tilted his head in inquiry. "What made you say that?"

I gave him a long once-over. Riding boots, wind-blown hair, an open tunic with his nearly exposed chest. "Nothing."

"I think I've met you before," he said. I wracked my brain to the balls I've attended this past season. There was no way I would actually meet a man by myself. "Ah, I remember."

"Where have we met?" I turned to him.

"I've met you in a dream," he said. I scoffed at the weak flirtation. Even I could do better.

"A dream?" I quirked an eyebrow. If that's how he's going to play, I might as well counter-attack. "Pray tell, handsome stranger, how did you see me in your dreams?"

His back was against the wall as I continued to close the gap between us.

"Was my hair down or up?" I unclasped the clamp over my bun, my hair falling down to my chest and back. "Tell me, what did I say to you?"

He slowly sat on the step ladder, surprise on his face as I, a petite, noble lady, continued to domineer over him. "Uh, I—" he stammered. I could almost taste his nerves.

I leaned closer, my breath nearly hovering over his ear. From this angle, I could see the two moles that decorated his cheek. "What did I wear?"