It was one of her favorite places in the refuge, a calm sanctuary away from the noise of survival and whispers of gossip.
The refuge, known as Aegis, was enormous—almost like a self-contained city.
It had everything one could need to live comfortably: a library, a gym, a cafeteria, a massive swimming pool, even a luxury cinema that still played old films to keep morale high.
At tis, it felt less like a bunker and more like a luxury hotel hidden underground.
As she walked through the library aisles, her fingers lightly brushing the spines of old books, she spotted soone sitting quietly in a far corner.
Her steps slowed when she recognized him.
Ross.
He was alone, reading silently, his expression calm and unreadable.
The light filtering from the overhead lamps cast a soft glow over his face, making him look strangely peaceful—almost gentle, a far cry from the rumors surrounding his na.
Karen’s mother lingered for a mont, observing him quietly.
She wasn’t sure what to think of the man her daughter had chosen.
Yet, seeing him like this—calm, collected, lost in a book—made her wonder if perhaps there was more to him than what others said.
Without a word, she turned and walked to another section of the library, leaving Ross to his solitude.
For now, she would continue to trust her daughter’s choices... even if she didn’t fully understand them.
***
Two hours later, Marissa closed the last page of her book and leaned back in her chair.
The library was peaceful—soft lights, the faint hum of air conditioning, and the quiet rustle of pages being turned.
Yet, her mind wasn’t entirely on the story she’d just read.
Ever since she’d caught sight of Ross earlier, sothing about him had lingered in her thoughts.
His calm presence, his posture, the way he seed lost in another world—it all stirred a strange curiosity in her.
After a few minutes of hesitation, she found herself glancing toward the far end of the room where he had been seated.
"What am I even doing?" she muttered under her breath, shaking her head.
Still, her feet seed to move on their own.
With quiet steps, she made her way through the aisles, the faint scent of old books and polished wood filling the air.
When she finally reached the corner, her heart gave a startled flutter—Ross was still there.
Sitting exactly where he’d been before, a thick hardcover open in his hands, his expression calm and focused.
The light from the overhead lights fell perfectly on his features, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw and the depth of his eyes.
She froze.
He’s still here?
For a brief mont, she considered turning around and walking away before he noticed her, but it was too late.
Ross lifted his head. Their eyes t.
"Ah..." Marissa’s breath caught. Ti seed to stop.
Up close, Ross was far more striking than she’d imagined—his face was clean-cut, his gaze steady yet oddly magnetic.
For a second, she swore she felt him undressing her with just his eyes, his quiet confidence washing over her like heat.
Her pulse quickened, her palms grew damp, and she could barely rember how to breathe.
"Marissa, right?" Ross said, his voice low and smooth, carrying easily in the stillness of the library.
He smiled, a faint curve of his lips that made her heart skip again.
He stood and closed the book gently before walking toward her.
Up close, his presence was overwhelming.
She could sll him now—sothing fresh and manly, a mix of clean soap, wood, and warmth.
It wasn’t overpowering, but it was enough to make her head swim.
"Y-yes," she managed, her voice barely more than a whisper as he extended his hand.
She took it automatically, feeling the warmth of his skin against hers.
His grip was firm but gentle, and for so reason, she couldn’t let go right away.
Ross’s eyes lingered on her face for a second longer before he said softly,
"Nice to finally et you, Marissa."
Her heart thudded in her chest.
Finally et ? she thought, dazed.
She wanted to ask what he ant, but her tongue felt heavy.
Instead, she could only nod, still holding his hand as if in a trance, wondering how a simple eting could make her feel so unsteady inside.
A soft, incredulous breath was all that escaped Marissa’s lips.
"...". Words had utterly failed her, receding like a tide and leaving her ntally stranded.
Ross, of course, was a man who read silences as clearly as headlines, and he knew precisely when to capitalize.
A subtle, knowing smile touched his eyes more than his lips, and he seamlessly stepped into the space her silence had created.
"It’s the first ti I’ve seen you here," he began, his voice a low, pleasant rumble that seed to absorb the surrounding quiet of the bookstore.
His gaze was intent, making her feel like the only other person in the world. "Do you read a lot?"
Marissa managed a slight nod, her fingers tightening around the spine of the novel she held. "I... yes. When I can."
"I myself am fond of the old masters," Ross continued, gesturing vaguely toward the classic literature section.
"There’s a certain weight to their prose, a permanence. But I have a soft spot for discovering new voices, too." He plucked a book from a nearby display, examined it with a critical yet appreciative eye, and set it back with a quiet thud.
"It’s like eting soone new. You never know what world you’re about to step into."
That small, seemingly innocuous observation was the key that unlocked the conversation.
What began as polite, hesitant replies from Marissa soon blossod into a genuine exchange.
They drifted from books to travel, from travel to a shared, wry amusent about the absurdities of modern life.
Ross was a skilled conversationalist, never monopolizing, but guiding and probing with thoughtful questions that made her feel fascinating.
He listened not just to her words, but to the spaces between them.
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