Maisara's pov
"And then I went home." I finish telling the story of last night to Felix. He already has his face buried in his hands, too ashamed to show his face, he said. Removing his fingers a little, he peaks at me through them and says, "Wait, that's it?"
"Unfortunately for me and fortunately for you, yes, that's all you have done." I nod, suppressing my smile at his expression. He has moved his hands and is now clenching his teeth which makes his face look like he's pouting. That's a rather cute expression on him, I must say. I suppress the urge to pinch his puffed-up cheeks as well.
He rubs one of his hands over his face and tilts his head back in frustration. A soft groan leaves his mouth. "God, that's still so embarrassing!"
"Is it?" I ask in amusement.
"Of course." I expect him to groan and whine again. But instead, he removes his hand suddenly and turns his head to look at me as if he just realized something.
"Wait, did I-" he cuts himself off abruptly, looks away, and thinks for a second. Then he looks back at me and licks his lips once before asking, "I mean whatever I did last night, did any of them make you feel uncomfortable?"
His words bring a smile to my face. I realize that I'm more comfortable with this version of his, kind and considerate, a little worried about his own mistakes. But that's fine. Because I'm here to help him when he messes up.
"Not really, I was rather amused," I answer simply though my mind keeps telling me to let him know that he can't touch me without my permission. But my brain knows that I don't need to tell him that. Judging by his personality, I can tell he's already aware of that.
"Did you talk with Ryker?" I ask him instead, crossing my legs at the ankle and placing one hand on the armrest of the sofa. We are currently sitting on the vintage sofas that are placed where the aisles end, at the other corner of the library. We didn't finish the tour of the library. Felix just decided that he needed to sit down to hear about his messed up drunk night.
"Nope," he mumbles pulling both of his legs up on the sofa to his chest and crossing his arms over them. I feel like that's his favorite and comfortable sitting position and he does that when he is uncomfortable about something. I've seen that, last night in the kitchen and right now here.
"I think you should talk to him," I choose my words wisely before saying them out loud so that I don't end up making him more uncomfortable. "You are family after all."
"Let him do that this time," he mumbles more quietly this time. It is maybe meant for him only. But in this environment, where one can even hear a pin drop, I'm bound to hear his mumbled words. He continues anyway, "Why am I always the first one to do so whenever we fight?"
I run my tongue over my dry lips. Well, that's something he surely didn't mean for me to hear. But again, I hear it. And I find restraining myself from telling him that I can relate to him.
Instead, I go with, "Okay, do as your wish." Because I don't find anything better to say. Luckily for me, Felix speaks up, "Let's just change the topic, okay?"
I nod at that. He turns his head a little and looks at me. His eyes shine with interest as he pulls out a smile. "You said romance is your favorite genre?"
Confused as to where is he going with that information suddenly, I simply nod again. His next words take away my confusion. "Which one is your most favorite?"
He gestures with his eyes in front of us. I look in that direction to find that the shelves that are facing us are the end of the romance section. A chuckle erupts from me as I say. "Whatever you do, never ask a book lover what is their favorite book."
"Oh, and why is that?" He pushes one of his legs down and turns his body towards me to look at me more clearly. Genuine interest reflects in his golden orbs. I face him as well pulling one of my thighs up on the sofa.
"We find difficulty answering that," I answer gesturing towards the shelves. "There are just so many books with so many different good stories, characters and scenes that we just can't decide which one contains all of that in one book."
"Okay." He nods in understanding and thinks for a second. His lips suddenly curve into a grin as if he found a solution to that silly problem. I catch the delight in his eyes when he leans forward and asks, "What about if I ask you about different scenes? Would you be able to answer them specifically?"
I think for a moment about his question before answering, "I can do that."
"Let's do it then. But I have another condition." His innocent grin instantly turns into a lopsided one as he leans back on his side of the sofa. To my surprise, I find a shiver running down my spine as I find his eyes shining with hidden mischief. And more surprisingly, I find myself getting excited as well.
"What is it?" I almost whisper out the words as if the excitement would wear off if I say them out loud.
"You have to read out those scenes for me." He tilts his head to the side while saying that and a few golden-brown locks fall over his eyes. He brushes them back as I shrug carelessly, trying to shrug off the shivering excitement as well.
"I would love to do that," is my reply before I stand up and wobbly make my way to the bookshelves that contain some of the precious pieces of my heart ignoring my trembling body and loudly beating heart.
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