Another day. Another quiet corner of the library.
Leni had found her way to the floor this time, tucked between two low shelves at the back—secluded, dim, and just far enough from the world. Her knees were pulled to her chest, arms wrapped loosely around them, her notebook forgotten beside her.
She wasn't hiding exactly. Just… breathing.
The skirt she wore had ridden up a little higher than she realized, her legs bare against the cold tile. She didn't think much of it until—
Footsteps.
Soft, familiar.
She didn't even need to look up.
Marco.
He crouched in front of her, studying her in silence for a moment. There was no smirk today—just something quiet in his eyes. He glanced down at her legs, then gave her a look that wasn't judgment, wasn't teasing.
Just concern.
Without saying a word, he lowered himself beside her—then gently pulled her into his lap, like it was the most obvious solution in the world. She gave a soft gasp, surprised, but didn't resist.
"Hey," he said softly, fixing the hem of her skirt so it sat right, covering what it should've been covering. One arm stayed wrapped around her waist, his other hand resting low on her back—firm, steady, warm.
Her heart fluttered so loudly it was a wonder he couldn't hear it.
"You shouldn't sit here like that," he murmured, voice low but not scolding. "Not when someone could walk by and stare at you like you're something they get to look at."
His words weren't angry. They were quiet. Protective.
Leni looked up at him, meeting his eyes.
"Then don't look at me like that either," she whispered, barely able to hold his gaze.
He blinked once, then smiled—a real one. Not his usual crooked grin. Just something soft. Something unguarded.
"I'm not looking at you like they do," he said. "I'm looking at you like someone who's already in too deep."
And before she could say anything else—before she could think—he leaned in.
His lips met hers.
Warm, slow, and steady—like he'd waited for the perfect moment and finally knew it had come.
Her hands gripped his hoodie instinctively, her body still curled against his in a way that made her feel completely seen, yet completely safe.
When he finally pulled back, he didn't say anything.
He just held her a little tighter, hand still resting on her back, thumb tracing soft circles.
And in that quiet corner of the library, it finally felt like everything she hadn't said didn't need to be said at all.