Library; Wednesday [ 09/26 ]

[ecirpnellehada.livejournal.com]

Beto nki tutasala? Opening the library, of course. No Congolese word for library, for they have no books. But they have poets, in the simplest of things. Adah had liked that.

She wondered what would happen if she put a sign on the door today that simply read "Uoy Knaht. Yadot Flesreh ot ecaps eht lla ekil dluow Hada; desolc yrarbil." It was a nagging question, but she had already sat down, and walking over there was too much effort. Besides, she didn't need to whole space; a small barrier of books, like a circle of ashes, would suffice just fine.

Comments

Re: Third Period -- 09/26

[ecirpnellehada.livejournal.com]

Adah couldn't help smiling at that.

"Can't possible refuse notes. You'll have to forgive me if I don't dive right in, though; I'm feeling a little tired at the moment."

Re: Third Period -- 09/26

[stupid-toasters.livejournal.com]

"Whenever you'd like," he said and nodded. "I should get going, let you have a relaxing rest of the day in the library."

He left his apology unsaid even though it was on the tip of his tongue, ready to pour out.

"It's always good day when I get to talk to you," he did say.

Re: Third Period -- 09/26

[ecirpnellehada.livejournal.com]

Adah could still tell that it was there, and she was actually glad it went unsaid. He had nothing to apologize for. And, while it would probably forever amuse her when people referred to a meeting with her as that, her smile was for something else he'd said.

There was a slight pause before she wrote back. "I feel..." Slight hesitation, trying to chose the right word, or, at least, the right word for her intent, "similarity. I always enjoy seeing you."

And she was grateful that what happened didn't seem to change the Eel's mind on the matter.

Re: Third Period -- 09/26

[stupid-toasters.livejournal.com]

There was happiness at her words. Happiness as well as relief that what happened hadn't changed her mind either.

"If you'd ever like to, feel free to come up to my room," he offered. "If not, you I'm always here on Sundays."

He picked up his bag, slung it over his shoulder before putting his hand back on the desk and drawing his fingers back and forth for a brief moment.

"For what it's worth," he said quietly, "it's still there. Whatever happened here today, what you saw before in my eyes, it's still there. I hope you enjoy the book."

He gave her one more smile before turning and heading out of the library.