Mean To Me

“See?” he said, gesturing at her as if she’d just made his point for him. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. You talk like a bard on a sugar high.”

“And I have no idea what you say half the time,” he continued, narrowing his eyes. “How can it be that we both speak English but every word that comes out of your mouth sounds like gibberish? It’s like your tongue is moving and your brain’s just along for the ride.”

Lyra gasped and pointed a dramatic finger at him. “See! Mean to me!!!” she shouted, scandalized by his complete lack of basic human decency.

Elias raised both hands in surrender, though the smirk creeping onto his face completely betrayed his fake attempt at diplomacy. “Okay…okay…I’ll say only nice things from now on,” he said, chuckling under his breath.

Yup… Lirae and Lyra… definitely different people.

“Come on,” he said, gesturing for her to follow. “Let’s visit the library.”

*****

When Elias had said “library,” Lyra had expected something modest. She had not expected this.

She stepped through the towering double doors. Her jaw dropped. She spun in a slow circle, drinking in the sight of hundreds of thousands of books. Shelves stretched up to the high-vaulted ceiling, so tall they disappeared into shadow. Stained-glass windows bathed the space in soft light, giving it the sacred aura of a cathedral.

“I could live here all my life,” Lyra whispered in awe, her eyes wide with wonder.

Elias arched an eyebrow, watching her as she stood there. “So you like to read then?” he asked, already knowing the answer but oddly curious to hear it in her own words.

“Yes!” she replied, practically bouncing on her heels as he led her deeper into the labyrinth of shelves. “Books were my escape growing up. I am a book editor..”

“I guess there is one attractive thing about you then,” Elias said casually, tossing the comment over his shoulder.

Lyra stopped walking and narrowed her eyes. “Hold up. One attractive thing?”

He turned slightly, an amused look dancing on his lips.

“Wasn’t it just a few minutes ago you promised to be nice to me?” Lyra whined, drawing out the last word.

Elias didn’t even bother looking at her. He was already scanning a shelf lined with books thick enough to serve as murder weapons. “I was being nice,” he said. “I said there’s one attractive thing about you.”

He picked up a volume, speaking the words casually.

Lyra blinked at him. “One? You consider one a pass mark?” she shot back. “Your bar must be really looooow.” She sang the last word, leaning against the shelf dramatically.

Elias smirked, finally glancing over his shoulder. “Or really high,” he said smoothly, raising a brow before returning his attention to the books.

He finally came to a stop in front of a weathered section labeled The Great Purge, his fingers brushing over the gold-lettered spines. Lyra noticed how careful he was with the books. It was annoyingly endearing.

He pulled out a particularly massive tome, and Lyra's eyes widened. “Wow,” she said. “That’s big. We have to read all of that?”

“No,” Elias said casually, without turning. “We have to read all of that,” he added, gesturing to the entire row of books.

Lyra followed the motion and stared at the endless wall of parchment death.

“Damn,” she muttered, her face twisting. “That’s some great purge.”

“It was,” Elias said grimly, flipping open the first book and letting the ancient paper rustle.

Lyra let out a sigh. “Couldn’t you summarise it?” she asked. “You know, break it down so I at least have an idea how to get out of here when I want to?”

Elias glanced at her, lips twitching. “I haven’t read it,” he admitted. “But we’re looking into artifacts that were destroyed during the Great Purge. We just have to flip through until we find one about a mirror.”

“Right,” Lyra sighed, the word coming out heavier than it should have.

Elias shifted beside her, the quiet tugging at his chest. He didn’t like seeing her like this—so small, so uncertain. With a softness that surprised even himself, he reached out and ran his hand slowly down her arm. His touch was careful.

“We’ll get you home, don’t worry,” he said.

“I just…” Lyra trailed off. She looked down at her feet. “I’m beginning to wonder if I even have a place. I don’t fit in here, that much is clear, and I don’t fit in my world either. It… it’s unsettling.”

Elias’s brows furrowed slightly. “Hey,” he said, nudging her gently with his shoulder. “You are the most carefree woman I’ve ever met. It’s… refreshing..”

Lyra arched a brow. “Wow. So poetic. Keep talking, Casanova.”

He chuckled and shrugged. “Look, you may be a social misfit here, but for some reason… I like it. You. It’s annoying… but I like it.” His laugh came then. “That doesn’t make any sense, does it?”

Lyra let out a laugh of her own. “No, it doesn’t,” she admitted. “But… I like it.”

For some reason, Elias’s gaze dropped to her lips. It wasn’t a conscious move. It was magnetic. His hand drifted up until his fingers brushed her cheek and cupped her face.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, as if the words had escaped him before he could put up a defense.

Lyra’s heart picked up speed. She didn’t move away. She just stared up at him, completely present, feeling everything at once. The ache of being displaced, the longing to be wanted. His head lowered, slowly. And Lyra, yeah… she definitely wanted to kiss him. Especially with the way he was looking at her.

She pushed herself up onto her tiptoes, slowly. Her fingers curling gently into the folds of his shirt. With her eyes closed, the world around her faded into background noise. All she could feel was his breath, warm against her lips.

Elias leaned in, drawn. Just at the moment of contact, their lips barely a whisper apart—