Reading University Library Novels & Stories

Perhaps I can find some newspapers that write about the tragedy, as it happened only a few weeks ago. As I get to the library, I am surprised by the vastness of the room. The high ceilings and the solid wood shelves give the place an elegant and studious atmosphere. I am in a university that is obviously very attached to its reputation. I guess that the disappearance of one of its students isn't good for its image. I search through the aisles quickly but I find only academic publications. And at the same time, where should I look? I doubt there's a shelf dedicated to Bathory's.

“Then come with me.” The Faculty of Journalism, English Literature and Language, and Communications held one of the largest libraries of the university. Initially I’d been shocked when Cyrus had told me, pushing open the door and letting me through first, but I supposed that in a way it made sense. There were not only academic textbooks here, but also an entire two floors of fiction.

Like she’s peeling me open layer by layer, and I hate how easily it works. I told her to leave me alone because if she doesn’t… I don’t trust myself. At the same time I am questioning why fate keeps on bringing us together?? ~MARCELLA~ I don’t expect to see him there. That’s the worst part. The university library is supposed to be neutral ground. Quiet. Predictable. Safe. I push through the heavy glass doors, the familiar scent of books and polished wood wrapping around me like a blanket. The space is hushed, broken only by the soft rustle of pages and the occasional cough.

*Roanne’s POV* The mahogany shelves of the university library gave me comfort. I admired the knowledge they kept, guarding the hushed secrets whispered between their ancient tomes. I felt the weight of those secrets pressing against my chest as I traced the spine of a leather-bound book, its title embossed in gold, yet faded by time.

Like she’s peeling me open layer by layer, and I hate how easily it works. I told her to leave me alone because if she doesn’t… I don’t trust myself. At the same time I am questioning why fate keeps on bringing us together?? ~MARCELLA~ I don’t expect to see him there. That’s the worst part. The university library is supposed to be neutral ground. Quiet. Predictable. Safe. I push through the heavy glass doors, the familiar scent of books and polished wood wrapping around me like a blanket. The space is hushed, broken only by the soft rustle of pages and the occasional cough.

Hands buried deep into the pockets of his hoodie, Abel stepped into the calm, large Library. Their university boasted one of the most massive Libraries in the cities. It housed tons upon tons of books and was a spacious, calm place students just came into to lounge around in between classes. He walked in noticing no one around. A lone figure sat far away, facing the large window, her head slightly tilted up. Abel made to the table to her right so he could wait for Professor Theodore. He hoped the man would show up before he had to leave for his next class. Walking to the table, he sensed the girl jerk her head around to look at him.

Which only made it more irritating. Her gaze moved toward the small stack of books sitting on the corner of her desk — mostly art books and a few random novels she hadn’t finished yet. None of them would help, at least not in this case. Maybe the internet just wasn’t the right place to look. Arabella tapped her fingers lightly against the arm of her chair as the idea slowly formed. Libraries had records the internet didn’t. Old texts. Language archives. Historical dictionaries. She remembered once hearing that the university library downtown had an entire section dedicated to ancient languages and forgotten dialects.

She positioned herself with a clear view of the main walkway while still being partially concealed by the shelving units, creating the perfect vantage point for observation. The library was moderately busy for a weekday morning, with students scattered throughout the various sections. Some sat hunched over laptops at study tables, their fingers tapping rapidly across keyboards as they worked on assignments or research papers. Others browsed the shelves methodically, pulling books from their places to examine content or check copyright dates. The soft murmur of whispered conversations and the occasional rustle of turning pages created a gentle soundtrack of academic activity.

m. — Screwed. And not in the fun way, got it. — he finishes my sentence perfectly. — Yeah. — I agree. To get in and out of this building, you need your student ID. It’s a relatively new protocol they implemented to make sure only people from one of the three universities in the city can enter and exit the library. — We can’t call anyone to come help us, right? — he asks, staring at the glass door.

And the worst part - the part I couldn't look at directly - was that I was already calculating how to make both work without my mother noticing I was gone. 6:45 PM - University Library Transfer orientation had been three hours of paperwork and practiced smiling. I'd shaken hands and learned names and laughed at the right moments, surrounded by art students debating post-modernism and the male gaze while I stood there thinking about what the male gaze actually felt like when it belonged to Silas Kingston and it had you completely pinned. The third floor was almost empty. A few grad students hollowed out by thesis deadlines, laptops open, barely registering the world around them. The back corn