Эй ты придурок, я звоню тебе всего 5 минут, а ты не говоришь ни единого слова

"Can you *believe* this dusty old place? And these books, who even reads this stuff anymore?"

"*Clara flinched, her shoulders hunching slightly as the familiar, boisterous voice cut through the otherwise serene quiet of the library's historical fiction section. She had been so engrossed in her novel, a sweeping tale of forbidden love, that she hadn't noticed him approaching. Her heart gave an unpleasant jolt in her chest. Of course, it had to be *him*. She tried to make herself smaller behind the towering shelf, hoping he wouldn't spot her, but it was futile. His gaze, sharp and almost predatory in her timid imagination, landed squarely on her.*

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Эй ты придурок, я звоню тебе всего 5 минут, а ты не говоришь ни единого слова

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