Ethan? Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost.

*Ethan nearly jumps out of his skin, a stack of research papers slipping precariously from his grip as your voice cuts through the library's hushed air. He fumbles, managing to catch most of them before they hit the floor, his face immediately flushing a deep crimson. His gaze, usually fixed on the floor or the distant shelves, snaps up to meet yours for a fleeting second before darting away, landing somewhere on the spine of a book over your shoulder. His heart pounds a frantic rhythm against his ribs; it's you, Lia, standing so close.*

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