Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Eli Clark truly enjoyed his job.

Some people said it was the perfect job for him. Some even said he was nearly the perfect man. For him, they were merely exaggerations. He just tried his best as the librarian of the public library of the town.

He had worked at the library for several years and had settled into a steady routine. Today was no different. He was always the first to arrive each morning, unlocking the heavy doors of the old three-story building with keys he cherished more than he’d ever admit. As he stepped inside, the soft morning light spilled through the tall windows, illuminating the worn wood floors and towering shelves.

He moved Brooke’s cage to a spot where he could see her easily. His boss had allowed the owl to stay because of the “character” it gave the library. Eli never quite understood what his boss meant by that, but he was grateful to have Brooke at his side.

As time passed, his coworkers arrived one by one. Of them all, Eli was the most affable and welcoming. Everyone recognized how easy he was to talk to. It was no surprise when, two years ago, the library director entrusted him with managing the library’s daily operations, a responsibility he took great pride in.

Once he had made sure each section was open and everyone knew their tasks, he settled at the large circulation desk near the entrance. From here, he was the first face visitors saw upon arrival, and the last when they left.

Even when he didn’t need to be at the desk, he liked staying there.  He always enjoyed seeing the various expressions of the attendees. The curiosity of those who arrived at a library as huge as that one for the first time. The satisfaction of bookworms who just found a new title to get obsessed with. The happiness of the kids at being part of the activities specially designed for them. Even the fear in students with loads of work, arriving at the library with desperate hope. Looking at the impact that place had on people was his favorite thing about his job.

That’s how his days went by. Greeting people as they came in. Guiding new arrivals through the building. Checking out books. Receiving back books and materials. Sometimes even giving book recommendations. No matter what, Eli always offered his help with a smile. He truly loved his job.

That day, at noon, a man appeared at the doors of the building. He paused on the threshold and scanned the interior of the library with lazy eyes. When his eyes fell on the circulation desk, he walked toward it. Eli set aside the documents he’d been reviewing, ready to welcome another person.

As the man approached, Eli realized just how tall and imposing he was. Even though he disliked judging people by appearances, it was rare to see someone like him in the library. He felt a flicker of embarrassment at the thought, especially when he noticed the man’s patient stare. He quickly recomposed himself.

“Good afternoon, sir! How can I help you?” He greeted.

“Good afternoon. Where can I find the Biology section?” His voice was deep and husky. It contrasted with Eli's gracious and mellow voice.

“The biology books and journals are in the third and fourth aisles to your right,” Eli explained, gesturing with an open hand. “Is there a particular title you’re looking for?”

“Actually, yes.” 

The man sreached into his pocket for some seconds and pulled out a small notebook. It looked old, or at least, well-used. He flipped through densely written pages filled with tidy script, diagrams, and symbols. After a moment, he stopped.

“Do you have any of these?” He asked, holding the notebook open for Eli to see.

Understanding how important the notebook was for the man who arrived at his library, he grabbed it carefully. Eli was impressed. Its size may be inconvenient to write for some people, but this man managed to fill two pages with an impressive amount of titles in small but neat handwriting. Most of them were on herpetology.

“I recognize some of these. But I’ll need to check the catalog to confirm what’s available. Give me a moment, sir.”

“Of course.”

Eli turned to the computer on his left side. The list was long, so it would take some time to search it all. As he typed, he stole discreet glances at the man across the desk. He didn’t seem impatient. Instead, he settled into a relaxed posture, arms folded, quietly surveying the library. The black turtleneck sweater he wore hugged his broad frame, straining slightly across his chest, but he appeared unbothered. As was his habit, Eli broke the silence with polite conversation.

“So, you are interested in herpetology, right?” Eli asked casually, glancing up as he typed.

“Right.” The man answered, a flicker of surprise crossing his face as if he hadn’t expected conversation. “Reptiles have always fascinated me.”

“I see. Is this a personal interest or…?”

“Oh, I do enjoy studying them in my free time, but this is for a research paper I’m working on” he added with a small, self-assured smirk.

Eli nodded, returning the smile before focusing again on the computer. He loved helping researchers, people who valued knowledge as deeply as he did. It was always a pleasure to assist them in finding what they needed.

After a few minutes of typing, he printed a list and turned back to the man.

“Alright, sir. We have most of the titles on your list. You can follow…”

He pause. Normally, he’d have a colleague guide visitors to their books. But a quick glance reveleade that the only worker near there was Aesop Carl. Though Aesop was very fond of him, and arguably his best friend, even Eli had to admit he wasn’t the best with people.  Trusting him with a researcher like this seemed unwise. He couldn’t risk scaring someone like this man away.

Realizing there was no one better suited, and considering the length of the list, Eli decided to take the task himself. After all, no one knew the library better than he did.

“You can follow me.”

Chapter Text

Hours had passed since the man's arrival and the whispering had already begun in the library staff break room. Naib, Margaretha and Helena were discussing inside. Luca and Tracy, who usually were in the media room on the second floor, were there too. Aesop was simply expecting. Even Norton, the delivery man, joined them after seeing the crowd.

“Okay, that guy scares the shit out of me.” Naib whispered.

“Naib. Language.” Aesop quietly.

“What? It’s not like Eli is nearby to scold me.”

“Yes, I am.” Eli’s calm voice interrupted as he appeared at Naib’s side.

Everyone gasped at his arrival. Not fear, just surprise. Even Aesop, who was usually calm, looked slightly startled. 

“What are you all doing here? We close in fifteen minutes.”

“That’s the problem.” Margarethe said, pointing to the study tables. “He hasn’t moved since hours ago.”

Eli had already been keeping an eye on him. Since he handed him the books, the man hadn't left his seat. Only his eyes and hands were in constant movement. His eyes and hands moved constantly. Reading, jotting notes, typing on his laptop, then flipping back to the book. He seemed absorbed. Eli was so impressed he hadn’t wanted to interrupt.

“Oh. Yes, I just assumed he'd leave soon.” 

“Someone should tell him it’s almost closing.” Helena murmured. “Not me, of course.”

“Well, there’s no way I’m getting close to him.” Naib said.

“Because he is twice your size?” Norton teased.

“Shut up, Campbell.” Naib shot back. “You know how I am with hard visitors.”

They all did. The last time Naib had tried to handle a tricky visitor, the library had ended up granting a year of free media room access to an old man Naib nearly started a fight with. They were lucky he’d been satisfied enough not to make it public.

As usual when there was a problem, everyone turned expectantly to Eli.

“Alright. Back to work, everyone. Norton, leave the food on the table. Aesop, you know where the money is. I’ll be right back.”

Eli left the break room as his co-workers dispersed, without taking their eyes off him. He sighed. It had been some time since the last time they handled a difficult person, so he was pretty nervous. But it was his responsibility, after all.

The man didn’t notice him when he arrived at the table. Eli tried to wave his hand in front of him from a considerable distance, but it didn’t work either. So he cleared his throat to get his attention.

“Sir… Excuse me.”

The reader finally noticed him. He stared at Eli with a blank expression, as he lowered the book he had in his hands slightly to see him better.

“Sir, I’m afraid we are going to close soon”

“Oh, really?” It wasn’t an instigation. It sounded like he genuinely had no idea. 

“Yes. It’s already 7:50 pm. We close at 8 pm”

The man closed the book and left it on the table quietly. Eli was ready for the argument to start, but he just looked at the clock on the laptop at his side, as if he had to make sure.

“What a shame. I was immersed in this book.”

“I can tell, sir. Good for you, you can always take books home.” 

“I know. I was just thinking about it.”

“Well, when you decide what books you want to borrow you can find me at the circulation desk.” Eli gently pointed. “There we can make all the process.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

Eli walked back to his desk. A sigh of relief came from him. The man was nicer than he expected. As he thought about this, he started getting ready to leave. It was Friday, which meant they all would eat together before going home. While he was packing his things into his suitcase, he saw the man doing the same on the other side of the hall.

Finally, he walked toward him with some books in his hand and a backpack on his shoulder. 

“I’m borrowing five books. Is it okay?” 

“Of course, sir. Just leave them on the desk.”

Strength had never been a characteristic of Eli, so lifting thick books like those to scan was always difficult for him. Every time someone brought them to his desk, he did his best to cover it up. It was impressive the man was able to carry them all at the same time. 

Once he finished, he started the process to make him a card. It wasn't difficult, so he knew he had enough time.

“Can I have your name, please?”

“Luchino Diruse.”

“Okay, Mr. Diruse. I need you to fill out this form so we can make you a library card.” Eli said as he took him a paper from a pile of many others like it. 

Luchino silently took a black pen from his pocket, grabbed the paper and started scribbling, as Eli just looked at him. He realized the man was probably used to the process and he almost felt dumb for explaining it all moments ago. 

When he finished filling the spaces, he handed it back. Eli received it and examined it. All the spaces were filled in the same neat and refined handwriting he saw in the notebook hours ago. According to the information Luchino provided, he was 30 years old. Eli gave him a quick gaze. It was hard to believe, but he didn't make much of a problem about it.

As he transferred the information to the computer, he couldn't help but ask what had been on his mind all this time.

“Mr. Diruse. Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“How come, someone like you has never been here?”

“Someone like me? What do you mean?” 

“I mean, someone with that thirst for knowledge…”

“Thirst for knowledge?” Luchino chuckled. “I guess that’s a good way to describe me.”

Eli wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic or genuine, so he kept silent. Noticing this, Luchino just continued talking.

“Let’s just say I’ve had… disagreements with my old scholar circle. I needed something new, a new place.” 

“Oh, so are you new here?”

“Yes. After some time searching, I discovered this library and I knew I had to come. I found out that there’s a nearby swamp, and above all, you had a wide collection.” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “So I moved.”

“Well, I’ve lived here for some time and I can assure you this is a nice zone. I hope you enjoy your stay here.” 

“I hope the same. Thank you.”

Due to the conversation, Eli hadn't realized that the computer had finished loading. He wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for Luchino's eyes positioned on the machine, making him turn around. 

“Okay, Mr. Diruse. You are already in the system. You can get your physical card on Monday” Eli said, sliding the books to him. “I hope you enjoy your readings.”

“I can assure you I will.” He said with a smile. “Goodnight.”

Chapter Text

Monday arrived, and so did Luchino.

Eli recognized him immediately when the tall man stepped into the library’s quiet morning light. To be honest, his presence was difficult to miss. Under the desk, Eli sifted through the stack of library cards.

“Good morning! How can I help you, sir?” Eli greeted, his voice carrying a professional cheer as Luchino approached the desk.

“Good morning. I believe I’m here to collect my library card.” Luchino replied, his voice low and even.

“Of course, Mr…” Eli glanced at the card he’d found. “Mr. Diruse.”

“Yes. Diruse.” He accepted the card and examined it briefly before slipping it into the breast pocket of his coat. Instead of turning to leave, he paused, opening his backpack with careful, deliberate movements.

Eli tilted his head. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” He said in a polite tone.

“Yes.” Luchino said, neutral but not unfriendly. He drew four thick volumes from his bag, setting them on the counter. “I’d like to return these.”

Eli’s eyes widened at the sight of the imposing stack. Luchino caught the reaction and made a small, matter-of-fact comment.

“We don’t read them cover to cover,” he explained. “Just the relevant chapters for our research.”

“Oh no, I know, sir.” Eli said, shifting the top book with a quiet grunt as he moved it aside. “They are just… quite substantial.”

“Do you require assistance?” Luchino asked, not out of particular concern, but because it seemed the appropriate, polite thing to offer. Social conventions had their place, even if he didn’t always see the point of them.

Eli blinked; visitors rarely offered help. Even less, if it wasn’t truly needed. “No, sir, thank you. I only need to place them here.” He indicated the shelf behind the desk. “My coworkers will handle reshelving them later.”

“Very well.” Luchino replied, before stepping back with a nod.

Luchino was blunt and formal, yet his politeness felt almost mechanical — like someone carefully following rules he didn’t quite understand. Eli couldn’t quite place the man’s manner. It was courteous, certainly, but hard to read beyond that. Ultimately, Eli wrote it off as just one more kind of visitor in the endless variety that passed through the library doors.

“Excuse me, sir,” Eli said quietly, stopping by the table where Luchino had been working without pause.

“Mhm?” came the distracted reply.

“I know it’s not really my place to say, but I don’t think you’ve moved in hours,” Eli pointed out, a gentle note of concern in his voice. “It’s getting pretty late. Most people take a break to eat long before now.””

The comment seemed to startle Luchino into awareness. His brow furrowed slightly, and he paused, as if only now registering the emptiness in his stomach. He let out a quiet sigh. It would be impossible to focus now that the thought had surfaced. “I… completely forgot.” His gaze shifted, considering. “Is there somewhere nearby I can eat?”

“Yes, sir,” Eli nodded eagerly, his chest swelling with a quiet pride. He welcomed any chance to share the place he’d poured so much of his time and care into. “Our library has a cafeteria on the top floor, along with vending machines.”

“I’m afraid snacks won’t suffice.” Luchino replied with wryness. “Which way to the stairs?”

“They’re just over there, to your right.” Eli gestured.

Luchino turned to leave, but Eli hesitated, fingers brushing the circulation desk as he weighed his thoughts. Luchino was exactly the kind of visitor Eli respected, someone who clearly valued knowledge. And after all the time he’d devoted to this place, it always felt right to show it off to those who might truly appreciate it.  

“Would you like me to show you the way, sir?” He offered, voice bright but steady. “ I was about to take my break anyway. I’ll call someone to cover the desk.”

Luchino stopped mid-step, surprised, giving him a brief, assessing glance. “How could I say no to such… enthusiasm?”

They climbed four flights of stairs, Eli filling the journey with a steady stream of facts about the library: its history, restorations, and current programs. 

“…and this reading room was renovated last year. The archives section is undergoing digitization…” he continued, eager to explain every corner of the building he knew so well.

His voice carried a measured excitement. Luchino kept pace with silent patience, only occasionally grunting his acknowledgment.

“…and unfortunately, because of the building’s age, we don’t have elevators.” Eli concluded, breathing lightly as they reached the last step.

“No, I understand.” Luchino said, voice low but carrying an edge of respect. “The history here more than makes up for it.”

A soft rush of feathers swept overhead. Brooke glided past them and landed quietly on the slanted surface of an unused lectern not that far away from the stairwell, her eyes round and unblinking.

The scholar’s gaze immediately shifted, his posture straightening with interest. He stepped closer, hands loosely at his sides, observing the owl with focused calm.

“And who is this?” he asked, voice quited.

Brooke tilted her head, returning his look with patient stillness.

“That’s Brooke.” Eli explained, stepping to his side.. “She’s… sort of the library’s mascot.”

Luchino nodded, eyes still fixed on the bird. “She appears well-kept. Is she accustomed to being here?”

“Oh yes. She’s been with me for years. My boss agreed to let her stay because she added to the library’s… character.”

“I see.”  Luchino chuckled quietly. “So she’s part of the staff, then?”

Eli smiled lightly at the thought. “You could say that. She likes to keep an eye on everything... Just from a comfortable distance.”

Luchino let out a quiet hum. “A wise strategy. Birds tend to prefer the role of silent witnesses.”

Brooke shifted her wings with a quiet rustle, and Eli noticed how naturally the exchange had slipped into something more engaged. 

“Do you have experience with birds?” He asked.

“I’ve studied avian physiology as part of my work.” Luchino replied, his voice calm, almost analytical. “Though reptiles are my main focus. Birds are fascinating in their own way, but they’re not exactly my favorite.”

At that, Brooke gave a small, indignant shake of her wings, as if offended. It earned a rare and genuine laugh from Luchino. 

“You’ve made your opinion quite clear.” he murmured to the owl, amusement flickering in his tone. He glanced back, his tone was now lighter. “Does she always make her opinions so clear?”

“Oh, she can be very expressive.”  Eli said, clearly entertained by the exchange, a spark of pride in his eyes. “Especially when she thinks someone has underestimated her.”

Luchino’s gaze returned to Brooke, still amused. “Fascinating. Animals are more perceptive than we give them credit for.”

Brooke settled into a quiet stillness, her eyes shifting between the two men as they lingered by the railing, questions and observations passed between them in low voices. After a moment, they began walking side by side, their conversation weaving effortlessly between them as they made their way across the top floor toward the cafeteria. Between brief pauses, quiet nods, and the subtle spark of shared curiosity, time slipped by unnoticed.

By the time they started back down the stairs, the clock was close to seven. Their steps echoed softly through the quiet building.

As they reached the main hall, Eli waved to Naib, who looked less than pleased from his post behind the desk. Eli knew he’d stayed longer than intended, but he didn’t regret it. The discussion had been unexpectedly engaging. And, surprisingly, the man was both more approachable and courteous than Eli had expected.

At the doors, Luchino paused to put on his jacket. He turned to Eli with a measured expression. “I presume it would be inaccurate to consider us strangers after this afternoon.” He said, a faint smile crossing his face.

Eli’s lips parted in surprise before curling into a warm smile. “No, I suppose not.”

Luchino extended his hand. “Well, then. You can call me Luchino.”

Eli took it without hesitation. “And you can call me Eli.”

“Goodnight, Eli.” Luchino shook his hand firmly before turning away.

Chapter Text

It had been a few weeks since Luchino first arrived at the old library. He didn’t come every day, but when he did, he stayed for hours. And gradually, exchanging a few words with him had started to feel like part of Eli’s daily routine.

The young librarian found himself fascinated by the researcher. He’d met many scholars before. Some were chasing prestige, others fortune. But there was something intriguing about this one.

From his table on the far side of the main hall, Eli’s gaze drifted to where Luchino sat several meters away, hunched over his laptop with a furrowed brow, eyes fixed on the screen. Eli raised a hand in a small, polite wave. When Luchino glanced up, his puzzled expression eased into a brief, courteous smile before he nodded and returned to his work.

He let his own small smile linger a moment before turning back to his task. He was cataloging a stack of new arrivals, enjoying the bright sunlight spilling through the tall windows, the way it caught the motes of dust in the air. A faint breeze filtered in, freshening the hall and lifting his mood. 

Across the main floor, he spotted Margaretha and Helena quietly discussing the upcoming library fundraiser, their soft voices blending into the familiar background hum. From the children’s section drifted the low, comforting rumble of Naib reading aloud, his tone surprisingly gentle as he wrangled his little audience. Somewhere above, faint sounds hinted at Tracy and Luca busy with their projects in the media room. Whatever they were up to this time.

Once he’d finished the box he was working on, Eli stood and stretched,  scanning the area to see if any crates remained before shelving the new books. His eyes fell on Luchino again, still sitting exactly as before, motionless except for the occasional flicker of his eyes across the screen. 

Crossing the hall, Eli stopped quietly at Luchino’s side. The scholar tilted his head back just enough to acknowledge him. 

“Hey,” Eli greeted quietly.

“Oh. Hi.” Luchino replied, voice low.

“Would you like me to remind you when it’s getting late?” Eli asked lightly. There was a hint of playfulness in his voice. It was more of a small joke than a serious offer.

“Yes.” Luchino answered without missing a beat, his voice firm. He was clearly too absorbed to realize Eli’s question had been meant as a gentle joke. “That would be appreciated.””

“Ah… Alright.” Eli answered with a nervous smile, not expecting that answer, but he quickly composed. It wasn’t as if annoyed him. 

When he was about to return to his work, Luchino’s voice stopped him.

“Wait.” He said, his eyes lifting from the screen. There was a subtle hint of impatience in his tone. A low sigh of quiet irritation escaped from him.

“Something the matter?” Eli asked.

“I’m trying to track down a paper cited in this article, but the reference information is incomplete. Do you know if your catalog covers small or local academic publications?”

Eli’s curiosity piqued. “Most likely. Do you have the citation?”

Luchino turned his laptop slightly so Eli could see the screen. He tapped his finger on a line of text. “Here. It mentions “Field notes on regional reptilian anatomy”. It was supposedly published in a small academic journal from this area. It’s cited everywhere, but there’s no year, volume, or issue information.”

The librarian scanned the line, already running through the library’s collection in his mind. “That’s a tricky one.” he murmured. “If the study was done in this area, it would explain why you’re having trouble finding it elsewhere. Local material like this sometimes ends up in our special collections. Give me a moment. I’ll check the archives index.”

A quiet excitement building in his chest. Few things gave him as much satisfaction as helping someone chase down a missing piece of information, something quietly waiting to be found again.

He slipped behind the circulation desk to the tall, narrow cabinet of index drawers. His fingers moved quickly over its worn drawers, sliding out a card and skimming it. The study was listed with a faded reference code and a note about limited copies.

“Looks like we have two editions.” Eli said, tapping the card thoughtfully. “One original from the journal’s first print run and a reprint. Both should be in the regional archives room… Assuming they weren’t misplaced.”

He straightened, eyes lighting up with a quiet determination. “Follow me. I think I know where we can look.”

Eli led the way, guiding him through a side door and down a narrow stairwell that creaked softly beneath their steps. The air grew cooler as they descended, while the hum of the main hall faded behind them.

A faint scent of paper and dust lingered in the air.

No other footsteps echoed here. The silence was almost absolute, broken only by the low hum of the old ventilation system.

The scholar glanced around, taking in the narrow aisles and aged shelves with quiet curiosity. “Am I meant to feel honored, getting access to a space reserved for employees?” he murmured with a faint smirk.

“Hah. You should,” Eli replied, his voice echoing faintly in the room as he scanned the rows of shelves. He held the card with the paper’s location out to Luchino. “We’re looking for this.” He said, tapping it.

Luchino stepped in behind him, close enough that Eli could feel the faint brush of warmth as the taller man leaned forward to read. His presence was solid, unhurried.

“Got it.” He said.

For a moment, Eli’s confidence wavered. Was it out of place to bring a visitor into a staff only section like this?  He turned slightly to check a reaction, but the man was already inspecting the shelf in front of them, scanning the faded labels with silent concentration. His expression gave nothing away.

Eli exhaled. The scholar might be… a unique person, he admitted to himself. But after a few weeks of these quiet exchanges, Luchino hadn’t given him any reason to worry. If anything, he seemed more absorbed in his research than in anything else.

Their conversations over the past weeks had stayed comfortably within safe, familiar territory: animals, books, and obscure studies. Eli had listened with quiet interest as Luchino described the reptile species he was researching that had drawn him to the area, explaining with clinical precision the unique adaptations he was hoping to document. The study had driven him to relocate here, and Eli admired the dedication it must have taken. 

But beyond these topics, they hadn’t ventured into more personal ground. Yet each time, Eli found himself drawn in by the scholar’s depth of knowledge and the unwavering focus he brought to every discussion.

“I don’t see it here.”

Luchino’s voice pulled Eli out of his thoughts, snapping his focus back to the search.

“It could have easily ended up somewhere else. Still in this room, but not where it should be.” Eli murmured. “Let’s check the other shelves.”

They continued scanning the spines and labels in silence, the quiet broken only by the soft scrape of their shoes against the floor. Eli dusted off a shelf with the side of his hand and finally spoke.

“Sometimes I wonder if anyone besides us even cares what’s in here anymore.” He murmured thoughtfully.

Luchino didn’t answer right away. His eyes remained on the shelf as he scanned the labels. 

“Maybe not many,” He admitted. “But someone always cares. Otherwise, knowledge wouldn’t survive.”

A faint smile curved Eli’s lips. “Let’s hope we’re not the last ones keeping it alive. Considering the state of this place…”

Luchino let a dry, amused hum out. “Yes. I wouldn’t be surprised if something’s still alive in there. And fieldwork isn’t on my schedule today.”

A low chuckle slipped from Eli. The soft sound lingered in the stillness of the room. But after a moment, a hint of uncertainty crossed his face. He glanced at his companion. 

“It’s taking longer than I expected…” He admitted. “You don’t mind being here, do you?”

“Not at all.” Luchino’s eyes were still roaming the shelves. “It’s interesting to see how it all works behind the scenes. Reminds me of when I worked in a library.”

“You worked in a library?” Eli asked, surprised.

"At my university’s library. It was the only job I could stand at the time.” Luchino replied. “I left once I found opportunities closer to my field. Service work was never really for me."

“I can understand that.” Eli said. “It can be demanding, yes. But for me, there’s something almost magical in guiding someone to the understanding they’ve been seeking.”

“I can tell,” Luchino said thoughtfully, crouched as he examined the bottom shelf. “It’s… very admirable.”

After not finding anything, he rose and stretched his back with a quiet sigh. As his eyes drifted upward, something caught his attention.

“What about the boxes above the shelves?” He asked, gesturing with a slight tilt of his head.

Eli followed his gaze. A row of white boxes lined the tops of the shelves, their lids barely visible from where they stood. The edges were yellowed with age and the corners were slightly bowed.

“Maybe it got tossed up there when someone didn’t know where else to put it.” Eli murmured. He could easily imagine Naib doing something like that. “I’ll go get the step ladder.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Luchino said confidently, already stepping forward toward the nearest box.

The librarian hesitated.

“Are you sure? I’m not even certain what’s in them. They could be heavier than they look.”

Luchino glanced back with a faint smirk. "I’ll manage."

He reached up, gripping the box with both hands. He tested its weight for a moment, muscles tensing as he decided it was manageable. Satisfied, he lifted it a few centimeters

Suddenly, a thick cloud of dust burst free, raining down onto Luchino’s face and shoulders. He recoiled instinctively, scrunching his face and pulling back, blinking.

Eli hurried towards him. ”Are you okay?” He asked, concerned. His hands hovered, unsure whether to help or give space.

“...”

Luchino remained silent for a few seconds, his breath steadying. Then he began brushing the dust from his clothes with slow and deliberate motions.

“I’m really sorry.“ Eli said quickly. “We haven’t cleaned up here in some time… This place collects dust faster than anywhere else.”

“It’s fine.“ Luchino finally said, his voice still composed as he brushed the last of the dust from his clothes. “I’ve endured worse.”

Eli didn’t answer immediately, his eyes searching Luchino’s face for any hint of frustration. Seeing none, he let out a quiet sigh of relief. If Luchino wasn’t going to make a fuss, he certainly wouldn’t either. 

“I can imagine.” he said with a small nod.

"Now, let’s see if this box was worth the trouble," Luchino said, setting the box down.

They opened it together and flipped through its content. After a few seconds, it was clear it wasn’t what they were looking for. They were just stacks of old magazines, yellowed with age. The right find seemed just out of reach, and somehow, the shared inconvenience had settled them into an easy and quiet camaraderie.

They glanced upward to the remaining row of boxes above.

Luchino sighed. “Let’s get that ladder.”

After twenty minutes of searching, they found the volume. It had been tucked away in one of the high boxes all along, wrapped in an old paper sleeve. Luchino pulled it free, brushing away a thin film of dust, and turned it over in his hands. He flipped through a few pages to confirm it was what he’d been looking for.

“This is it,” Luchino said at last, his voice low but certain.

“I’m glad,” Eli replied, with relief and quiet satisfaction now softening his tone.

They finally left the archive room, their footsteps echoing up the stairs and into the wide, sunlit hall. As they stepped onto the first floor, the familiar sounds of the library returned around them: the quiet murmur of voices, the rustle of pages turning, and the soft tapping of keyboards.

Naib passed by with a stack of coloring books under his arm, already headed toward the children’s section. Near the back, Aesop moved silently between shelves, sorting returned volumes with practiced precision. At the end of one aisle, Tracy stood on tiptoe, inspecting a wall lamp with a furrowed brow, clearly absorted.

The young librarian led the way toward the index cabinet, Luchino trailing a few paces behind. Margaretha, adjusting a stack of fliers at a nearby display, glanced up as they emerged from the side stairwell. Her gaze lingered on them for a brief, curious moment. Luchino caught the flicker of her eyes and met it just as she turned smoothly back to her work.

At the cabinet, Eli began flipping through the index cards. Luchino lingered near the circulation desk, his posture unusually hesitant as he watched the librarian work. There was a subtle uncertainty in him. His eyes were just following Eli’s calm movements.

Eli soon moved to the computer at the side of the desk. “Now there shouldn’t be any problem next time someone needs this.” He explained without looking up. “And I just left a note so we can tidy the room and review that collection sooner than the schedule called for.” A small, satisfied smile crossed his face as he read over the final line on the screen before turning to Luchino. “Here.” He said, offering the volume. “I hope you find it useful.”

Luchino took the old journal gently and his fingers lingered on the cover for a moment longer than the necessary. For a moment, a strange heaviness settled in his chest at the thought of returning to his table.

He wouldn’t have minded if the hunt had lasted a bit longer. 

He pushed the thought aside and looked up to meet Eli’s eyes, before clearing his throat. “Thanks.”

The library continued around them, as if nothing had changed. Yet for him, the world felt subtly different.

Chapter Text

The rain had started in the afternoon and hasn't let up since.

Now, as evening settled in, it drummed steadily against the tall windows, streaking the glass in threads. Most visitors had cleared out. At that hour, the library had quieted to a low hum, as the scholar had learned over the past two months. Just the soft buzz of overhead lights and the occasional rustle of a turning page. 

Eli lingered near the front desk, with one hand resting on the counter as he watched the rain trace patterns down the windows. The warmth inside felt more comforting than usual. A quiet contrast with the outside. 

His gaze, inevitably, drifted to the far side of the hall, drawn by a familiar presence.

Luchino sat at his usual table, but something about him made Eli pause. He wasn’t writing or flipping through notes. Instead, he was sitting still. A pen rested idly in one hand while the other curled near his mouth, knuckles brushing his lower lip in an absent, thoughtful pose.

His eyes were unfocused, fixed on the rain or something else beyond it. 

Eli knew the way Luchino looked when he was working: sharp, immersed and focused. This wasn’t that. This was something heavier.

After a moment, he stepped away from the counter and made his way across the room. He slowed as he got near to the table.

From the end of the hall, part of the staff were already gathering their things. The team had grown used to Luchino’s presence, especially late into the evenings. But that didn’t mean they weren’t still watching.

Tracy zipped up her jacket and tossed a glance toward the main floor. 

“He’s still here” She said under her breath. “And Eli’s already on his way.”

Margaretha was seated nearby with her legs crossed, scrolling through her phone.

“Of course he is.” She murmured with a knowing smile, without even glancing up.

Tracy didn’t respond, but lingered for another second, then returned to her task with a small shake of her head.

Meanwhile, Eli stopped at the edge of the table.

“I was going to grab coffee.” he said. “Do you want some?”

Luchino looked up, blinking as if pulled from somewhere far away. His eyes sharpened for a second, reflexively guarded, but then he registered it was Eli who was standing in front of him. His shoulders eased and his expression softened.

“Coffee sounds good.” He said quietly, with a small nod. “Black, please.”

“Don’t worry, Luchino. I already know." Eli said with a small reassuring smile

“Right…” He mumbled as he watched him walk away. A strange feeling started flickering in his chest.

It wasn’t the first time Eli had offered him coffee. The first time, weeks ago, he’d simply accepted without much thought.  Back then, it felt like a polite gesture, nothing more. But now, that same gesture settled differently.

He exhaled quietly, glancing down at the pen still resting in his hand.

A few minutes later, the librarian returned, balancing two steaming cups. He hovered for a moment, scanning the cluttered table buried in books and papers. Seeing the hesitation, Luchino silently shifted a few documents aside after a quick glance to make sure they could be moved.

“Thanks,” Eli said, placing the cups in the newly cleared space.

“Of course,” Luchino replied, his eyes flicking away.

The librarian sat at his side and reached his cup, fingers wrapping around the warmth like it was a small comfort. 

“I saw you,” He said, voice soft, but casual. “You were awfully still today.”

“Drifting, I suppose.” Luchino replied with a voice that was quieter than usual. He looked down at his coffee, then added. “You always seem to know when I need one.”

“I figured you might need this," Eli said. "Maybe I’ve learned to read your face.”

Luchino gave a quiet huff of amusement.  “You make it sound like I’m easy to read,”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Eli replied, hiding a smile behind his mug. “Took me a while.”

Luchino’s brows lifted slightly. He didn’t answer, but something in his expression softened.

They sat in silence for a while. Somewhere in the distance, the faint creak of a book cart and the barely audible ticking of the wall clock marked the passage of time, but around them, it was quiet.

Eli blew gently into his drink before taking a slow sip. Rain tapped steadily against the windows. Its rhythm was soft and even, filling the space between them. His gaze drifted to the glass, following the trails of water.

Luchino followed his gaze for a moment, but his attention soon returned to the man beside him. He had spent part of the afternoon lost in the same view, trying to untangle something in his mind.

Now, without meaning to, he realized he had stopped looking outside. 

The window no longer held his thoughts.

Eli’s presence was calm, grounding, effortlessly close. There was a quiet focus in the way he held his mug, like even the smallest act deserved his full attention. 

Luchino just watched him.

He’s always so careful, he thought. So calm and quiet, yet he keeps this whole place running like clockwork. How does he do it?

Eli felt the stare and looked up. His gaze met Luchino’s. The unexpected contact made the scholar’s breath hitch.

He hadn’t meant to stare. But Eli hadn’t looked away.

The flicker of warmth and the calm steadiness in those blue eyes were disarming. It unsettled something deep inside him. His hand tightened around the mug, as it could steady him.

He should say something.

Anything.

Clearing his throat, he shifted into what he thought was a casual pose. Ebow propped on the table, cheek resting on his hand, legs spreading slightly.

“Hey,” he began. “Did you know birds, like your little friend Brooke, are actually more closely related to dinosaurs than to modern reptiles?”

Eli blinked at him, then smiled as he raised his mug to take another sip. “Really? I had no idea.”

Of course he knew. It was common knowledge. Any child with a science book had heard that. And even if it wasn’t that well known, Eli had read nearly every ornithology title in the place years ago, when Brooke had first arrived. Over time, he had become something of an expert.

But he wasn’t going to say so. At that moment, Luchino looked pleased with himself, so quietly proud to share something. Eli could see it in his confident posture and the faint smirk on his lips. Why spoil it for him?

Meanwhile, Luchino’s mind was in chaos, and not because of his research.

What research?

For the first time, he’d completely forgotten it. All that was on his mind was why he couldn’t stop smiling. 

He was here, beside the man he’d met weeks ago. A stranger who had quietly slipped into the structure of his days – until, somehow, he wasn’t a stranger at all.

It was in the little things. 

The way Eli always noticed – how he liked his space, the times he needed quiet, the way he took his coffee. The way his voice softened, just slightly, whenever he said his name. The way he picked up when something was off, never asking too much but always offering just enough. The warmth in Eli’s eyes when he listened.

His chest felt too tight. His hands twitched slightly against the cup.

He had been sitting across from Eli for weeks. Sharing silence, sharing glances, pretending the space between them wasn’t tightening by the day.

But now he felt it. Clear and undeniable.

Luchino’s heart began to pound as the realization crashed over him.

He was falling for Eli.

Shit.

And there was no undoing it.

Chapter Text

A quiet alarm chimed in the hall.

Its tone was so low that only Luchino could hear it. A recommendation from Eli, who had worried about the long hours he spent sitting without a break. After much insistence, Luchino had finally agreed. He couldn’t deny it: once he started working, he completely lost track of time.

He closed his laptop with a soft click and stretched, just as the younger man had taught him. He didn’t exaggerate about how relaxing it was when done properly. Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind.

Where is he?

He found Eli behind the circulation desk, going through a small pile of books. The librarian’s fingers moved with practiced ease as he flipped through pages.

Luchino approached, coming to rest beside the desk. Arms crossed as he watched Eli work. It had become a common habit for him to linger nearby, drawn by the calm focus the librarian brought even to the simplest tasks.

“Working?” he asked.

“Mhm.” Eli hummed. “I’m checking the returned books.”

“I can see that,” Luchino replied. “Do you really check every single one?”

“Of course,” Eli said, a small smile as his eyes stayed on the book in his hands. “It’s not just about making sure they’re in good condition.” He flipped a page carefully. “You’d be surprised what people leave behind.”

The taller man leaned in slightly. “Like what?”

“Pencils, receipts, sticky notes, wrappers…” Eli listened as he inspected the book.

“They’ll use anything as a bookmark, won’t they?” Luchino said with a smirk.

Eli chuckled softly as he picked the next book from the pile. It was a well worn volume of poetry, with a faded green cloth cover and corners softened by time. The spine was slightly creased from countless readings.

“I like this one.” he said, running a thumb along the edge. “The poems in here always seem to say something new each time.”

“Poetry, huh?” Luchino hummed. His tone was skeptical, but not unkind. “I wouldn’t have guessed you were the type.”

Eli raised an eyebrow. There was a playful glint in his eyes. “What type do you think I am?”

Luchino paused, as if caught off guard by the question. “I don’t know… More logical.”

“And you think poetry and logic can’t coexist?” Eli teased lightly, as he began flipping through the delicate pages.

Before the scientist could reply, something slipped from between the leaves and fluttered down onto the desk.

“Just like I told you.” Eli murmured.

A folded piece of paper lay between them. Eli reached for it, picking it up with careful fingers.

“A receipt?” Luchino guessed.

“No, a note.”

He turned it gently in his hands, the brittle creases crackling faintly. A few faded words appeared as he unfolded it. The ink was smudged, but the words were still legible. 

The scholar leaned closer, eyes narrowing as Eli began to read aloud.

“I want to be, to be in you,
An indelible mark
A constant memory
And a single truth.
To beat in your prayers
With fear of abandonment.
To be, in everything and through everything,
To be, to be our complement.”

“Oh, that was beautiful,” he murmured as he lowered the piece of paper.

“Hm.”

The librarian turned slightly. “You’re not very fond of romance, are you?” he asked. 

The question was gentle, but direct.

Luchino let out a short, incredulous laugh, as if the mere possibility was absurd.  “I’ve always been dedicated to my research. I never really had the time, or the inclination, to think much about romance.”

“I see.” Eli simply replied. 

A subtle unease settled in Luchino’s chest at Eli’s brief response. Something about his own words didn’t sit right, as if he’d misstepped or miscalculated something important without realizing it until too late. Though Eli didn’t seem upset, he could feel a faint tension that lingered in the air, enough to make him second guess himself. 

His jaw tensed and his fingers twitched slightly against the edge of the desk, a rare break in his usual composure. He cleared his throat.

“Although…” He added quickly, his voice steadier now. “I can still appreciate its complex beauty. Historians have recorded what it drives people to do. Poets have circled it for centuries, trying to name it and give it a shape.”

Eli’s blue eyes were focused on him, not giving anything away. Luchino took a brief, almost unnoticeable, breath before continuing.

“...And even with all that, it remains undeniably one of the most powerful forces we’ve ever tried to understand.”

The pause that followed was short, but for Luchino, it seemed eternal.

“Mm… It really is.” Eli agreed with a small smile forming on his lips. “See? Poetry and logic can coexist after all.”

After that, he folded the paper and placed it on his desk. He reached for the next book in the stack as if nothing had changed, though the quiet between them felt subtly different.

Beside him, a decisive glint appeared in Luchino’s eyes. Almost like he made a decision in that very moment.

The alarm chimed for the second time.

Luchino stilled at the soft sound. 

Right. Another break.

He glanced at the clock, then at the open document on his screen. He stared at it for a moment, drumming his fingers against the edge of the keyboard. Then, slowly, his gaze drifted toward the front of the hall, until they stopped at the circulation desk.

There was the librarian, still seated behind it with his usual quiet focus, working on something on the screen. He had a notebook at one side and a pencil twirling in his hand. The same ease, the same calm posture, the same way of being completely unaware of how magnetic that calm had become to someone else.

He glanced back at the screen. His current paragraph was fine, technically accurate and clearly written. But suddenly, that didn’t feel like enough. He wanted to hear someone else read them. 

Luchino hesitated for a few seconds. Then, he took his laptop and stood up.

Eli looked up as he approached the desk. “Break time again?”

“Apparently,” Luchino said. He paused. “Do you have a moment?”

The librarian tilted his head, curious. “Sure. What’s up?”

“I was… going over a section of my notes. I’d like your opinion on something.”

Eli blinked. “On your research?”

“Just to see if it makes sense to someone who isn’t into herpetology.”  He explained. “I figured… if anyone could tell me if it’s alright, it’d be you.”  His voice was even, but there was a faintest crease of tension.

Eli stared at him for a few seconds, his brow arched slightly. It wasn’t that the request was odd, as he helped visitors all the time, but coming from Luchino, it was unexpected. Still, he put the notebook and the pencil away. “Sure,” he said, leaning in. “Let’s take a look.” 

Luchino set the laptop gently on the desk between them. He didn’t sit right away but when Eli scooted over slightly, leaving a space beside him, he accepted the silent invitation. He kept his posture rigid, pretending not to notice how close they sat. 

Eli adjusted his glasses, eyes scanning the screen. His voice came softly as he read aloud part of the text, under his breath. Luchino sat still beside him, watching his face rather than the document.

After a few minutes reading, Eli pulled back and tapped a line with his finger. “This section… it’s a bit dense. You might want to break it up here”

Luchino leaned in slightly. “...I thought that paragraph flowed well.” 

He was a little surprised, but took the advice. He pulled the laptop closer and typed a few revisions, then turned it back towards Eli. “Like this?”

The librarian tilted his head, reading it over. “It’s better.” He said, before taking the laptop himself. “But maybe like this instead?” His fingers moved across the keys with ease, reworking the phrasing with certainty.

Luchino didn’t comment right away. He simply watched him typing.

“There.” Eli said, turning the laptop at him. “What do you think?”

“It’s… clearer. You kept my structure, but made it easier to follow.” He nodded. “That’s good.”

“Glad you think so.” Eli gave him a small smile. “Want me to keep going?”

Luchino nodded again, more quickly this time. “Yes. Please.”

Eli continued reading, making notes in the margins, occasionally asking a question. His finger occasionally traced lines on the touchpad to scroll down or to highlight a fragment. Luchino’s posture eased after a while. His arms now rested lightly on the edge of the desk.

The tightness in his chest had eased without him noticing.

Their quiet continued, broken only by the soft click of the keys as Eli adjusted a few more lines. At some point, he glanced sideways at the man at his hide, just briefly. Luchino’s attention was fixed on the screen, reading the document. Or that's what it seemed.

He didn’t overthink it. Just continued.

Eventually, Eli leaned back slightly, his gaze lingering on the screen.

“You’re detailed without being unreadable.” he said, his voice low but certain. “Even when it’s dense… It still sounds like someone who knows exactly what they’re talking about.” 

Luchino blinked, caught off guard. His mouth opened, then closed again.  “That’s… appreciated.” He said, after clearing his throat. “Clarity is the minimum I expect of myself.”

“That sounds like you.” he murmured, as he turned back to the screen.

A comfortable quiet settled again. Luchino didn’t look away, but he didn’t quite meet Eli’s eyes either. 

“And I have to admit… I didn’t expect you to take edits so well.” He said amused.

“Well, I think I can trust your judgment.”

Eli raised an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised.

Luchino leaned back slightly, stretching. “Anyway… everyone has gaps in their knowledge.” He added casually.

“That almost sounded like humility.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Luchino said with a faint smirk. “It won’t happen again.”

Eli gave a quiet laugh. “We’ll see.”

They kept going – writing, revising and talking. They didn’t notice how long they stayed like that. Their voices remained low, their shoulders close enough to brush. But neither of them pulled away.

They stayed there, heads bent close over the screen. It wasn’t really about the document anymore.

The alarm chimed for the third time.

The sound pulled Luchino from his work. He stared at the screen for a moment longer, then closed the laptop gently. Eli’s help earlier had been more than useful. It genuinely improved the structure of his work. He could proudly say that he had made real progress today. He should have packed up, satisfied. But there was something that didn’t let him leave yet. 

Across the hall, he spotted Eli making his way between shelves, balancing a pile of books in his arms. No cart. 

Luchino didn’t hesitate. He knew exactly what he had – or wanted – to do. He pushed back his chair and strode across the room.

“Oh, hi. How is your work goin–?” Eli greeted him with a smile, but his words were cut off abruptly as Luchino stepped forward and took the stack from his arms.

It took Eli a second to process what had just happened. Luchino, meanwhile, had already shifted his focus to the top book, examining its cover.

“Murder in the Orient Express? Goes to the novels section. Crime novels, right?”

“Yes? Luchino, what are you doing?”  Eli asked, reaching out instinctively.

“I’m putting the books where they belong.” Luchino replied flatly,  already moving.

“You don’t have to help me with that.” Eli protested,  quickening his steps to keep pace.

“Bullsh–” He started, but the look Eli shot him made him catch himself instantly. “Nonsense. I saw you struggling. You needed help, so I’m helping.”

“I do this every day,” Eli insisted, keeping up with his strides. “It’s literally my job.”

“And yet you weren’t doing it efficiently,” Luchino said without turning.

Eli let out an incredulous breath. “You don’t even work here!”

A few aisles over, Naib and Aesop had paused to watch the scene unfold. It was almost comical to see their composed manager practically chasing the tall researcher through the halls. His protests echoed softly. They had never seen Eli like that before. When the pair disappeared from view, Naib finally broke the silence with a snort.

“Oh my god.” He muttered with a grin across his face.

“Unbelievable.” Aesop murmured.

In the end, they shelved the books together. Eli gave up, muttering something under his breath, and Luchino took it as a small victory.

Now, they were working side by side in relative quiet. They fell into a coordinated rhythm. Eli would hand him or point to a book, and Luchino would shelve it. For a while, the only sound came from the books being put in their place, until Eli broke the silence.

“You’ve been around more often lately.” He said casually, while looking at the shelf in front of him.

The comment made Luchino pause while he was about to put a book on the shelf. He didn’t turn, just slipped the book into the empty gap and replied, trying to sound casual. “Research is demanding. ” 

“I can imagine.” Eli murmured. "You’ve walked past the desk five times.”

“Sometimes I just need to stretch my legs.”

There was a brief pause.

“I didn’t say it bothered me.”

That made Luchino slowly turn his head. He couldn’t see Eli’s face, he was sure he could spot a small smile across it.

“Oh.” He murmured, feeling the corner of his mouth lifting again.

They kept working. Eli crouched to shelve in the lower stack and let out a small breath as he stood again.

“You alright?” Luchino asked.

“Yeah. Just a little stiff.” Eli said as he handed over the next book. “Why? Worried?”

“No.” Luchino said. But after a second, he added. “Maybe a little.”

Eli looked at him. “You’re terrible at hiding that.”

Luchino didn’t answer, but he couldn't help but smile. Eli let out a quiet laugh, then shook his head and turned back to the shelf to put the last book in place.

When he straightened and faced him again, his voice was softer. “Thank you for your help.”

“Anytime.” Luchino replied.

They stood there a moment longer, neither moving. As if the aisle had narrowed or time had slowed. Or maybe just because neither of them quite wanted it to end.

“Okay…” Luchino murmured, awkwardly. “I was about to head out.”

“Oh. Right.” 

A pause.

He turned a little reluctantly, like he wasn’t quite ready to walk away. But Eli's voice caught him before he could take a step.

“Do you want a coffee before you go?”

Chapter Text

The morning of that day had been slow.

Eli had gone through the typical activities. 

He had assigned the tasks of the day – and had made sure everybody understood them. He had reviewed the calendar and adjusted the activities schedule. He had signed off  a box of new arrivals, which were now being shelved by Aesop. He had paused briefly to inspect the update in the events bulletin done by Margaretha and Tracy. He had responded to questions about citation format from some university students.

The expected. The usual.

But as he passed through the main hall, back to the circulation desk, his eyes drifted toward a spot in the long table by the window. 

It wasn’t the first time it had happened that morning. Without meaning to, his gaze came back to it, from time to time.

And every time, it was empty.

He slowed his steps once, almost stopping, then shook it off and kept walking.

He didn’t expect Luchino to come every day. The absence wasn’t unusual, but it felt strange anyway. He tapped his fingers on the desk, almost absently.

“Quiet morning.” Margaretha commented as she walked past, holding a clipboard. “Missing your favorite visitor?”

“Luchino is not–” Eli stopped, catching the teasing note in her voice. “He just usually comes around this hour. He says he doesn’t have a routine... but he does. Roughly.”

Margaretha raised her brows slightly. “You’ve been paying attention.”

“It was just observation.”

"Mhm.” She said, unconvincided.

Helena, behind her with a handful of bookmarks for the children section, glanced up.  “What? Mr. Diruse isn’t here today?”

“No.” Eli said. “Not yet.”

“Oh.” Helena said, smiling gently. “I hope he’s alright.  You two usually seem deep in a nice conversation whenever I pass.”

Eli didn’t know how to respond. He felt a faint warmth rise to his face. “He must be fine.” He simply answered, quietly.

It was a normal day so far. But it didn’t quite feel like one.

Now it was past noon, and Luchino still hadn’t shown up.

Eli had been glancing at the clock on the far wall every so often. Around this time, he usually took a longer break, often spent talking with Luchino. He just kept himself busy. But there was a thread of distraction running through everything he did.

At the moment, he was sorting a short stack of books set aside for the next display. This week's theme was  “Books that spark debate”. He reviewed each possible title to be included with attention, making notes and putting them aside to pick the next one.

Until a particular hardback caught his eye.

It was a book he remembered Luchino brought up to him last week. One of those popular psychology titles that claimed people could be divided into left-brained or right-brained. It made Luchino roll his eyes and Eli challenged him just for fun. They argued over it, half-serious, half-laughing. They spent fifteen minutes debating over a theory neither of them really cared about. But the conversation lingered in Eli’s mind long after.

He opened it and flipped the first pages, but didn’t read it. Then he closed it quickly, and set it aside.

Only then he noticed how his shoulders had gone a little tense. He let out a quiet sigh  and reached for the next book.

He told himself it didn’t matter. That he wasn’t expecting him. That he had work to do. But every time the door opened, his head turned instinctively. It was never the researcher. He just turned back to work without a word. 

Noticing their manager's unusual behaviour, Naib approached his spot. 

“You good?” Naib asked, leaning against the desk. “You’ve been weird all day.”

Usually, seeing Naib in his ridiculous bear costume for story hour would have earned a chuckle from Eli. Today, he barely glanced up.

“It’s Luchino.” He said quietly. “He hasn’t shown up.”

At that, Aesop looked up from the stack of titles ready to put back to the shelves.  “That doesn’t sound like a problem.” As usual, he wasn't really discreet about his relief to have fewer visitors.

"Shut up, Carl." Naib said.

Aesop, unbothered, shrugged and returned to his task. Naib turned his attention back to Eli, who didn’t seem to register their exchange.

“Look, he’s probably just got caught up in something. Didn’t you say he had to do fieldwork or something?"

He had talked about Luchino with the staff before. More often than he meant to, probably.

“Yes. He said had to keep an eye on some nesting site.” he said. “I just thought he might still come.”

Naib stopped right there.  “Wait…  Did he say he would?”

“No.” Eli admitted quietly. “He never does.”

Naib exchanged a glance with Aesop, who raised a brow but said nothing. Neither of them said anything else. But the smirk tugging at the corner of Naib’s mouth said enough.

The afternoon light had faded into evening. The windows no longer let in sun. They only reflected the lights of the overhead lamps. Outside, the streetlights had already let up, casting long shadows across the street. A few visitors remained scattered throughout the building. Their voices were low and their footsteps soft against the carpet. The staff moved around, as the slow and steady ticking of the wall clock marked the quiet approach of closing time.

Eli was tidying the circulation desk. Naturally, throughout the day, the surface had grown cluttered,  slowly without notice –  documents, flyers, books, paperclips, bookmarks…

While stacking loose papers to put away, one in particular made him pause. It wasn’t part of the day’s clutter.

It was a printed scientific article, with annotations around the margins. Both Luchino’s and his. He remembered reading it with him at the desk. A his eyes passed over one of the highlighted lines again, he could almost hear the scholar's voice reading it aloud. Eli’s eyes lingered there a moment longer before he set the paper down.

He doesn’t come every day. Eli reminded himself. He didn’t say he would come.

It was true. Luchino never promised he would. Sometimes he arrived. Sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes he disappeared for days.

He had other things to do. Work. Commitments. Personal matters. A life outside those walls. It was perfectly reasonable, Eli knew that.

But that didn’t ease the tightness in his chest. 

The rest of the desk didn’t take long. Along with the article, a few items had already been set aside in a pile at one corner of it.

A few notecards, some scribbled with anatomical terms, others with quick sketches of the species Luchino was investigating. A philosophy book Luchino had left for him to look at, with a sticky note that said “Chapter 3 reminded me of something you said”. A bent paperclip, twisted out of shape by Luchino idly while thinking. A short list of recommended ornithology titles, and other of poetry books, in Luchino’s small and precise handwriting.

Seeing it all together felt strange. It was evidence of how often the scholar had been around.  Not only in the library, but also in Eli's life.

He placed them carefully into one of the drawers and closed it.

Then he stood still for a moment, staring at the now cleared desk. Everything was in its place. Ready for the next day.

But he couldn’t help glance toward the door one last time. He breathed in slowly, then exhaled through his nose.

Brooke, who has been on a perch beside him,  let out a soft chirp.

“I know.” He said quietly, managing a small smile. “I’m being ridiculous.”

Brooke let out another sound.

Eli huffed softly. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m still working.”

He reached out and gently smoothed the feathers along her back. The pleasant sound she made gave him some comfort.

He sighed. There were still end-of-day tasks to finish.

He began the closing routine. Turning off monitors, locking the drawers beneath the desk and unplugging devices.

Luca and Tracy approached, both already wearing their jackets, ready to leave.

“We checked the windows lock.” said Luca. “It’s not completely repaired, but they will hold fine through the rain.”

“We’ll test it again tomorrow.” Tracy added.

“Oh, okay. Thanks." Eli replied, but his voice was distant. He didn’t quite look up.

They glanced at each other, before silently walking toward the front entrance.

The library was quiet now.

Most of the staff had already left. The few ones remaining had already completed their last tasks and were already on their way out. 

The final lights had been switched off, save for those at the entrance. Brooke was already on her cage, patiently waiting. Eli had already packed his bag. He reached for the keys.

Then, the door opened.

Eli turned, his brows lifted 

Luchino stepped inside, a little out of breath. He looked tired – mud on his shoes and hair messed up from the wind. His eyes scanned the hall, and found the librarian.

 “I wasn’t sure you’d still be here.” He said, quiet.

“...You’re late.” Eli replied softly. “We just closed.”

“I know.” Luchino said. He hesitated, then added. “I wasn’t going to come. But I had to..”

He trailed off. Whatever he meant to say as an excuse faded out. Eli was already walking from the desk.

“Wait.” he said. He reached up and straightened the collar of Luchino’s shirt. “You look terrible.”

Luchino could feel his face getting warmer but he didn’t move away. “...I suppose I do." He said. "I was doing fieldwork." He wasn’t sure whether he was explaining his appearance or his absence.

Eli held his gaze for a moment, then smoothed the collar into place and let his hand fall. 

“…Want to sit?” he asked.

Luchino gave a small nod. “Only for a while. If that's okay.”

He still didn't really have a reason to come. He never gave an excuse. And Eli never asked further. 

He was there.

And, for both of them, that was enough.

Chapter Text

“...So, during the cooler months, they enter brumation underground. Only when the soil temperature rises above nine degrees, they reemerge from the same spot.”

“You know you don’t have to monologue after every page, right?” Eli teased.

Luchino smirked. “Ah, would you prefer I stay silent?”

“No.” He answered, with a small shake of his head. “I enjoy listening.”

The scholar’s fieldnotes lay open in Eli’s hands.

Luchino hadn’t been coming to the library as much lately, but today he’d brought the results right to him. It felt like catching up.

After almost four months since his investigation on the native lizard species started, the notebook had grown thick. Its cover was a little worn and the edges softened by use. There were faint signs of  humidity, coffee stains, graphite smudges. Still, it was easy to tell it had been cared for, keeping it safe despite the weather, travel and time.

It was clear how much the notebook mattered to its owner.

They had been looking at log entries, annotations about the lizard species: behaviour, diet, anatomy, environment… All of them with tracks of time, weather and coordinates.

It was what he expected from Luchino. Analytical, methodical and precise.

Each page carried the same patience, stubborn focus, and almost tender fascination for his work Eli noticed when they talked. The same he had grown used to and had learned to expect without realising it.

When he turned the next page, his eyes caught something different from the logs.

The next pages were filled mostly with quick sketches of the animal. In different poses and angles. There were closeups of its pale brown eyes, the curve of its sharp claws, the pattern on its bag. Some of the drawings were meticulous, and others were messy, clearly done quickly in the moment. Small notes were scattered in the spaces between them.

Eli examined them for a long time, admiring the detail quietly. His eyes traced every stroke.

“Your drawings are really impressive.” he murmured. “They are… very precise.” 

Luchino’s mouth curved in a small smile at the compliment.“Those sketches?” He kept his gaze on the drawing of the lizard curled on top of a rock, just at one side of Eli's fingers. “They are just references."

Eli gave a quiet hum in response. “They are too good for just references.” He said as his eyes moved now to a drawing of the lizard’s eyes, before he glanced sideways at him. “Remind me why you’re a biologist again.”

Luchino huffed. “You are humoring me now... I just tried to put on paper what I saw.”

“Right…” Eli said, leaning a little. “But if you ever get tired of chasing lizards, I’m sure we can get you a display for your art here at the library.” 

The comment made Luchino let out a genuine laugh, louder than usual. 

“Doubt that would ever happen. But thanks.”

It made Eli pause briefly. Something about the way the lines on his face crinkled and the way his shoulders eased – how Luchino seemed to unguard around him – hit him.

He still laughed along, but after Luchino turned back to the notebook, his eyes lingered a moment longer than he meant to. Then he looked down again, before he could think too long about the feeling that started to set in his chest.

He traced the edge of the page with his thumb, before moving to the next section, careful not to smudge the graphite.

Luchino leaned slightly. Close, near but never quite touching. The way he always did when they read something together. 

Eli didn’t need to look up to know. He could feel him, through the faint scent of his cologne, the rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his presence.

He shouldn’t notice those things. But he did.

Luchino kept his gaze on the open page, not showing how aware he was of how little space was left between them. It was impossible to ignore every breath, every movement. He told himself it was only to see the notebook better, but the faint in his chest suggested otherwise. 

For a moment he considered leaning back. But he didn’t.

The pages turned with a faint rustle, as they continued reading.

At times, Luchino would pause to explain further. Not just about the lizard, sometimes about that particular day or a story that he remembered. Other times, Eli would ask.

It happened again, when they got to the end of May, around a month ago.

They had been leaning closer over the page, with their heads almost level. When Luchino shifted to point out one of the entry lines, his hand moved without thought. 

“Oh, that day–”  

But as he did it, his finger brushed Eli's hand that was holding the book. 

It made them both stop. Luchino went quiet. Eli got a little tense.

The touch was light but Eli felt the heat of it. His eyes stayed fixed on the page, while inside his heartbeat quickened in quiet betrayal.

The silence stretched, where neither said anything. 

Until Luchino continued, keeping his voice as steady as he could. “...I’d been out for hours without a single sighting. I nearly gave up.”

Eli stayed quiet. He didn’t pull away either.

“Until I spotted one basking on a dune." Luchino went on, still as if nothing had happened. ”So I followed it. Way farther than what I should have.” 

That provoked a quiet chuckle escape from Eli. “Of course you did.” With it, the tension on his shoulders finally started to ease.

Luchino’s eyes flicked at Eli, as he smiled faintly. ”By the time I realised where I was, the sand had given way under my boots and I slid down before I could stop.” He glanced back at the page. His tone was lighter now. “I had to climb back up with my hands. Thought I’d lose half of my equipment.”

“Seems like you enjoy being reckless.” Eli said, tilting his head at him. 

A spark of amusement crossed Luchino’s face. “Are you lecturing me?”

Eli exhaled softly through his nose. “Would it work if I were?”

It made Luchino’s smirk deepen before he looked back down again.

The notebook became their anchor again, drawing them into the same rhythm as before.

At some point, the notebook had shifted into Luchino’s hands as he wanted to point out a passage more clearly.

Eli didn’t mind. With his hands now free, he rested his cheek against one hand, and his elbow propped lightly on the desk. He just let the sound of Luchino’s voice fill the space between them.

But he wasn’t just listening. He was watching too.

His eyes followed the way Luchino gestured when he got excited, and how he paused sometimes midsentence, searching for the right word. He noticed the way his brow furrowed and the little crease that appeared when he was focused. He caught the way he smiled genuinely, which was rare, but would soften his usual sharp features.

The librarian’s gaze drifted lower, to the movement of Luchino's hands as he turned and moved over the pages. He handled things carefully, not like someone being delicate, but like someone being precise.

I shouldn’t notice that. Eli thought.

It doesn’t mean anything. You're just observant. 

Luchino noticed Eli had gone quiet.

But there was something different about this stillness. It wasn’t the comfortable thoughtful kind he was used to.

It made him flick sideways.

Eli was staring at him. Directly.

Luchino couldn’t quite tell what the look meant, and he didn't dare meet into those blue eyes to know. Eli had always been observant, but this felt like more than that. He could feel a faint heat starting to take over his cheeks and ears.

“…And that’s why the males bask so early in the season.” He continued, forcing himself to keep an even tone. But his heart kept racing. “The warmth from the sunlight brings out the vivid colours fast… which gives them an advantage in territory disputes.”

Eli didn't move, head still resting on a hand. Luchino was no longer sure if he trusted himself to keep his composure.

“Is it… too much?” He finally asked. “I can stop here.”

“Mm?” Eli murmured, as if pulled from a thought. “No, I’m listening."

Luchino gave a short, unsure laugh. “There’s no need to lie… I know I get carried away.”

“I told you I enjoy listening to you.” Eli answered softly.

The tone was different from before.

It caught Luchino off guard. His finger tightened slightly round the book. He felt the need to clear his throat, before turning back to the notebook, avoiding Eli’s eyes. 

“That’s… good to know.” He said, with a voice softer than he intended. “I suppose I should thank you for indulging me.”

Eli tilted his head. “It’s not just the subject, you know.”

He didn’t elaborate, but the smile that accompanied the words carried a weight that made Luchino’s chest tighten. For a moment, he forgot what he’d been about to say.

“Here.” He said at last, handling the notebook back. “It’s better if you go at your own pace.”

Eli blinked, not understanding quite well, but took it. “Okay.”

“Alright… Where was I?”

And they went on as before - Eli would make a comment or ask a question, and Luchino would gladly explain in detail. But the air between them carried a certain weight that neither seemed willing to aknowledge.

As they neared the end, the pages were turned more slowly.

Eli wasn’t in a hurry to finish, neither the fieldnotes book nor the moment.   

There was something special about seeing Luchino in this light. It was much more than the scholar in his element. By now, he knew with certainty that the professional and the man were never separate. They were one.

His work was not separate from him, every page was a reflection of him. The stubbornness that kept him in the field no matter the circumstances. The wit that found its way into the scattered notes. The discipline that made his process so meticulous. The quiet care in the record of the smallest of the details.

And between them, Eli could read even more. There was the deep, unshakable passion beneath. It was so intertwined in who Luchino was that he couldn’t imagine the man without it. The same dedication and persistence that fueled in the field could be felt in the way he spoke, the way he acted, the way he moved through the world.

Eli had known Luchinos passion since the day they met, but he couldn’t say when it began to settle differently in him. Now, every small expression, every small trace of the scholar felt like something he couldn’t imagine being without.

How many of these little details had already taken root inside of him without noticing?

The thought of it brought a warm inside of him he didn’t dare to name.

That warmth lingered as he kept turning the pages, each one pulling him deeper into Luchino’s internal world. He slowed his pace even further, unwilling to reach the end, yet knowing it was close. 

He finally reached an entry from just two days ago. 

They were notes he recognized. Eli remembered Luchino talking about it just last week, when he explained to him the way the summer heat changed everything for the lizards.

There were lines describing the females digging burrows in sunlit sand, burying their clutches before leaving them to the warmth of the earth. It was accompanied by a photo of a clutch of eggs. In the second half, observations on foraging and flattering. He had started tracking the building of reserves that would carry them through the long winter beneath the ground.

The exact same precision was visible from the first to the most recent note. 

His fingers hesitated over that last written entry before finally turning the page.

When he did, he found the paper on the next one was clear, smoother. Untouched.

The scholar watched with amusement as Eli flipped through a few more empty sheets, almost as if needing to be certain.

“What are you searching for?” Luchino asked, with a low chuckle. “That’s the end.”

“I know. I’m just–” Eli replied quietly, but it cut halfway when something caught his eye.

When he was closing the book, he noticed a page at the very back. Almost tucked against the binding as if it weren’t meant to be found. He thought he saw some words.

Eli tilted the book and opened it just enough to peek. Just a quick look.

On the top of the page, there was a small heading: “Dedications?”. Beneath it, only three lines. His eyes immediately spotted a particular one among them.

Clark E.

The sight made his heart kick.

There was nothing more than that, but its weight was undeniable. His eyes lingered on the name for a moment before he closed the book gently, feeling the thrumming in his ears. 

He couldn’t help but turn to Luchino. 

The other man was watching him, head tilted slightly, curious.

“Something wrong?”

“No. Just...” Eli’s grip tightened on the cover, doubting. 

He finally slid it across the desk, back to its owner. As he did it, he held Luchino’s gaze, searching for something in it. “Thank you for showing me.” He said in a low voice. 

Luchino’s hand stilled before it reached the notebook. Meeting the other’s eyes made his breath hitched. He couldn't stop shown the reaction on his expression. The faintest curve of his mouth and the barest lift in his brows. 

For an instant, it looked as if he might say something. Something that matched the feeling that had lived in his own chest for far longer than he cared to admit, and that was only now  beginning to surface in Eli’s.

But instead, he gave a small shake of his head and took the notebook. His fingers rested on the cover, in an attempt to steady himself.

“It’s nothing.” He murmured. The words carried a guard in them that hasn't been there a moment ago. “Let’s put this away.”

The shift was stuble, but it made Eli glance at him again.

Luchino didn’t meet those eyes.

As if that would keep the feeling from deepening even more. 

It didn’t.

Chapter Text

Luchino had spread a large sheet of parchment across the table. Its edges were weighted down with four books. His finger traced a winding route along the sketched ridges, pausing at certain points as he murmured under his breath. 

“Here, the sand is looser. There are burrows everywhere.” He leaned closer to refine a detail with marks of charcoal. “You can see their tracks leading there.”

Eli sat opposite him, chin propped against one hand, eyes following the movements. He’d only meant to pass by, but the moment he saw Luchino unrolling the map, he couldn’t help to get closer.

Now and then his gaze flicked to the map, quietly correcting a note or adjusting the spacing.

“You’ve drawn this hill twice. And missed several others.” Eli observed lightly, tilting his head. “Are you sure you don’t want me to bring you one of our maps?”

Luchino grunted softly, not really bothered. “I can add them in the final record.” He said without looking up.

“That’s one way of working.” Eli replied, tone mild.

Another detail caught his attention. He slid the map a little closer, lifting up a pen. 

“If I leave this as you’ve put it, they will think you got lost halfway through and circled back.”

That earned him a sharp glance from the scholar. “You are enjoying this way too much.”

“And yet you haven’t stopped me from fixing it.” Eli said, eyes on the map.

Luchino’s mouth twitched in a smirk. “You’re insufferable.” He murmured before he bent back over the parchment.

“Mm.” Eli hummed, marking another correction. “And still useful.”

Luca approached, walking briskly with a clipboard clutched under one arm. His voice was halfway into a sentence before he even registered the scene in front of him.  

“Eli, we are–”

Luchino turned at the sound, meeting the younger man’s glance. Luca’s smile froze mid-gesture, the words cut short. 

Nothing wrong was taking place. There was no judgement, no hostility in Luca’s expression. And Luchino rarely doubted himself. And yet, he felt the weight of the pause, feeling too exposed. 

Eli, however, showed no trace of hesitation. He turned at Luca. “Yes?”

Luca moved the clipboard to his hands, tapping it with a finger. “We’re ready for the projection test.”

“I’ll be right there.” Eli replied, then glanced back at Luchino, his tone softer. “Time to get back to work.”

Luchino nodded. “Alright. Good luck with that.”

“Thanks.” Eli rose smoothly. Before stepping away, he settled a hand lightly on his shoulder. “Tell me if how it went in the cafeteria. See you at five.”

Luchino’s eyes dropped to the hand, then lifted back to Eli’s eyes. Something in his chest tightened.

“Sure.” He said quietly, with a faint smile breaking through. “See you at five.”

As the sound of the librarian's steps blended with the hush of the library, Luchino felt the echo of that touch still burning faintly on his shoulder. 

It felt good. So good it started to unsettled him.

The fleeting touch on his shoulder. The warmth that lingered in his chest after time together. The way his smile had come too easily. The awareness of how close they’d been. The quiet, casual trust in Eli’s words. The way others had noticed it too.

Until the silence Eli left behind, making only unease remain.

It all left him with the unsettling certainty of a truth he was trying so hard to push aside. Every little thing that once felt harmless and gentle, now struck too deep.

He knew it now with sickening clarity.

He was already too far in.

“Here he is!” Luca said with a big smile. “He was with his favorite visitor again. Exactly where we guessed he would be.”

The words tumbled out without hesitation. As always, Luca wasn’t aware that some things weren’t meant to be said aloud. Especially in front of Eli himself. 

Tracy, who had been adjusting the lens of the projector, pressed her lips together, trying to hold a laugh. But a short snort finally escaped. “Oh, I’m sorry we interrupted your…” 

Eli stopped for a second, before raising his eyebrows. “My what?”

“You know, your… little meetings." She said, her lips twitched as she tried not to laugh again.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” He said in a light tone, but felt his cheeks getting warmer. “Can we start the test?”

“Fine.” Tracy, still smiling, hands over the lens again. “If you say so...”

Luca got closer, ready to work. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you back to your guest soon enough.”

Another laugh between them, and Eli just huffed through his nose in response, brushing it off. But as he turned toward the projection, the words refused to leave the back of his mind.

Luchino had been sitting in silence longer than he meant to. He had the notes in front of him, but his thoughts were louder.

He’d known for months what was happening to him. He thought he could live with that – the quiet, tender appreciation that crept in slowly. But now it no longer felt small. It consumed him.

Lately, it wasn't just that Eli lingered in his head after they spend time together. Now he was in the middle of his work, slipping into every line.

More than once, he caught himself staring at words he’d just written, unable to recall the thoughts that produced them. Instead, he remembered the way Eli's voice softened earlier at him. Or he’d lingered on a page, only for his eyes to wander across the hall towards Eli instead of the information before him.

Those qualities he knew he could always trust, discipline and focus, were starting to waver.

His work had always been unshakable. It was the one thing that never bent, never faltered, for anything or anyone.

And yet here he was. Lingering when he shouldn’t. Waiting for excuses to speak. Finding reasons to stay near, even when he had no need. Even when the investigation that brought him there in the first place was nearing its end. And whenever Eli answered with that calm attentiveness, with that quiet warmth, it just grew worse.

He never planned this to happen. 

And he would have to leave once his work was done, then move to the next one. That had always been clear for him. His life had never been built to stay in one place, much less with someone. 

The worst part was knowing he wanted the distraction. He looked for it.

He knew would go back. He would invent pretexts, academic or mundane, just to draw Eli’s attention. He would seek to brush past him, to feel the bare touch, even if it was just a second. He would bring him findings, only to watch the reactions lit up his face. 

He would lie awake imagining things he shouldn’t.

Every time he gave in to the smallest indulgence. Let himself drift closer.

Until… Until what?

His jaw tightened at the thought. 

There was no answer. No ending. No way forward either.

And that terrified him, more than he wanted to admit.

He couldn't let this go on. If he didn’t stop it now, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to.

Luchino stood in front of the shelf. His hand hovered near a spine but didn’t reach for it. He wasn’t really reading the titles. The thoughts were still tangled from earlier, the tension still running through his spine.

From behind him, a familiar voice broke the quiet.

“Looking for something?”

Eli had been walking back to his spot from the media room and slowed when he spotted Luchino's figure between the shelves.

The scholar stiffened. The sound of Eli’s voice had caught him off guard. His shoulders tightened briefly, but he managed to compose himself enough to answer in a steady voice.

“Ah… yes. Needed a reference.” 

The librarian stepped closer, turning to examine the section label. “Do you want me to help you find it?”

For a moment, Luchino almost accepted the offer. He wanted to. The words pressed against the tip of his tongue.

“No need,” He said quietly instead. “I can handle it.”

“Right, of course.” Eli said lightly.  “I know asking for help would be a mortal wound to your pride.”

Luchino’s eye flickered sideways to Eli. He was already scanning the covers with the quiet focus he had always known him for. 

“You had already reviewed a lot of these, if I remember correctly.” He commented, nodding.

Of course he remembers. Luchino thought. He pays attention. He notices. He cares.

I can't keep getting used to it. I shouldn't.

He took some breath before answering.

“I said I can do it alone.” He said, in a tone sharper than intended. “You don’t need to watch over me, Eli.”

He didn't mean for it to sound dismissive. But it did.

The shift was immediate.

Eli’s hand stopped and, after a beat, fell from the book he was already reaching. His expression didn’t change, but the light in it dimmed.

“Oh...“ There was a bit of tension in his voice. “Alright.”

Luchino’s throat tightened. He immediately regretted it, but he didn't dare to look. Instead, he kept his stare forward, his body rigid.

Eli lingered, watching him a few seconds longer, as if trying to read him. 

“I'll… go back to the desk, then.” He finally said, in a careful tone.

As he turned around, the faint curve of his usual small, polite smile slipped away the moment Luchino couldn’t see.

Eli walked away from the shelves quicker than he meant to, his steps sounding too loud in the quiet of the library.

What had just happened? Have I pushed too far? Did I make him uncomfortable? The thought tightened in his chest.

He didn't do anything he hadn't done before. He wanted to ask, to clear the air, but the replay of the sudden edge in his voice made him stop.

I must have overstepped. I made this something it wasn’t, right?

After all these months, he thought he understood Luchino quite well. He thought he could read the silences, the flickers in his expression, the shifts on his tone. He had been so certain Luchino was at ease with him. 

Could it be he had been blinded by his own feelings? Maybe he had let himself grow too comfortable, become too careless.

When he reached the desk, he sat down almost absently.

His shoulders were tight and hands rested tense on the surface as the moment replayed in his mind, sharper each time, trying to point out what went wrong. But he couldn't couldn't tell.

It made a single thought cross his mind.

I should have known better.

The emotion that started to expand through his body was one he wasn’t used to: Shame.

Shame for making Luchino uncomfortable. For every time he had felt a warmth when Luchino accepted his care, believing it was welcome. Shame for how much he’d treasured every moment spent together that he thought it was shared.

And, beneath it, shame for misreading someone so completely.

He had always been observant and perceptive, aware to the smallest of gestures. He trusted his ability to see what others overlooked. Even if he’d never said it aloud, he had taken deep pride in it.

But now, all that certainty cracked. His feelings must had blinded the ability he had always relied on, making him mistake the truth for his own hopes.

It’s not his fault if I forgot my place. He told himself. I should give him space. That’s what I would want, in his place.

He drew a slow breath, before he straightened.  

I shouldn’t feel like this. Not in the middle of the day, when there was still so much to do, when there are people depending on him.

He had no right to falter. So he got back to work. 

When a visitor came looking for directions, he helped in a professional, measured tone. When Margaretha showed him the changed schedule, he nodded through it, but not giving any deep insights as usual. When Naib and Aesop passed by to chat, he answered in casual, short replies.

His hands stayed busy, sorting, cataloguing, writing. But no task could shake away the weight on his chest. Through it all, he carried an ache of something he shouldn’t even allow himself to feel.

Luchino knew something was wrong. For the last hour, he’d been working ressenstly, but his attention never strayed far from the man at the desk. He had been watching him, even when he didn’t mean to.

Now, he lingered by the desk longer than necessary. For a moment he hesitated, words tangling on his tongue before he finally settled on something simple.

“Do you… happen to have the copies I left yesterday?”

Eli looked up. Their eyes met briefly, although the look on his eyes didn't give anything away. 

“One moment.” He turned to the shelves behind the desk, then pulled out a folder. “Here it is.” He said as he handed it to him, without a pause.

The words were no different from how he might answer anyone else.

“...Thanks.” Luchino replied with a nod.

The tone hit Luchino hard. It wasn’t unkind nor rude, it was still polite. But it was off. Distant, no longer personal and warm as he had gotten used to.

But he didn't said anything else. He walked away, trying to push the unease aside, and forced himself back to his work.

After Luchino turned away, Eli’s eyes followed him discreetly. It was stupid, but a part of him wished the man would turn back, said something else. With a quiet sight, he just lowered his head back to the desk.

As the day dragged on, Eli looked worse with every passing hour. 

Luchino had finished his own work long ago, but he still lingered in the library. He had been pretending to read, unwilling to leave, but not daring to get closer either. 

The librarian's complexion had become a little paler. His lips were pressed together, while his thoughts kept circling, sharper and harder.

Focus.

Keep it straight.

He had been pushing himself through tasks, but even the simplest of them started to betray him.

A book misplaced in the wrong shelf. A date copied incorrectly into the schedule. A distracted answer offered when a coworker approached with a question. The precision that usually defined him was missing. Each split made him grit his teeth, before forcing composure back to him.

How many times have I told others to take their time, to do things carefully? And here I am…

It stung deep.

It wasn't just about Luchino's words anymore.

His pride had always rested on being steady, capable, the one others could trust without hesitation. And now he couldn’t even trust himself to keep order in the smallest of things. Much less the weight he claimed to carry everyday.

He sat before the computer, staring at the unfinished monthly report. Checking the figures should have been easy enough. But he quickly found his eyes kept scanning line after line on the screen, not really catching the numbers.

A sigh escaped him. He leaned back slightly, dragging a hand down his face.

I can’t let anyone see me like this. Not visitors. Not the staff. Not…

His mind betrayed him with Luchino’s name. It nearly made him turn his head toward the man’s usual seat. But he stopped himself at the last second. He couldn’t let himself look.

A single edge in his voice and I lose all sense of myself. It was just a moment. Nothing more.

He hadn’t meant to be so affected, but the truth was written in his face and posture. His shoulders were tense and  his brows were slightly creased, deepening each time he sighed. 

Even from the distance, it was clear how much Eli was fraying.

From his usual table, Luchino clenched his jaw. He couldn’t watch any longer. Couldn’t bear it.

He set his book down and rose from his chair, quick and decisive at first. But with each step, his resolve wavered. Still, the sight of Eli bent rigidly over the papers pulled him forward.

The librarian was so absorbed in his paperwork he didn’t notice the tall figure looming quietly at his side.

“Eli.” 

He snapped out. Startled, his eyes widened for a second, before he forced composure back to his posture and face.

“Sorry. Didn’t see you there.” He said in a neutral tone. “What can I do for you?”

Luchino scanned Eli’s face, but not daring to stay on his eyes. “You look…”  He hesitated.

Now close, the hints of exhaustion across his features were more evident. Faint creases along his brows mouth pressed too tight, skin pale against the lamplight at his side.

"You look exhausted.”

Eli just exhaled through his nose in response. “Hm.” 

In the distance, the rest of the library staff could be seen doing their respective jobs. Organized and smooth, thanks to the structure Eli had built.

But even in their business, Luchino noticed the glances. For a moment, he thought they were looking at both of them, as it had been lately. But this time they were flickering towards Eli. Concerned.

When he turned back, Eli was still not looking at him. His gaze was fixed somewhere past the desk, unfocused.

"Come outside.” Luchino said abruptly. “Fresh air might clear your head.”

Eli looked up, surprised at first. Then, a trace of suspicion crossed his face. He didn't want to misread again. But, beneath it, he still wanted to believe Luchino cared.

For a moment, Luchino thought he would refuse, making him hold his breath. 

At last, Eli’s shoulders sagged. “Alright.” He said quietly. “Just a few minutes.’”

They stepped away from the desk. The library carried on behind them while the two of them crossed the hall. Luchino walked just a pace behind, following him toward the door and the quietness that would wait outside.

A cold breeze brushed across them as soon as the left the building. 

“I didn’t know it would be so cold.” Eli murmured, as his eyes drifted toward the dark night. His hands rubbed together. “You don’t have to stay.”

“I’m okay.” Luchino said, voice low.

They sat down on the library’s chilling stone steps. Luchino kept distance between them, not far, but enough.

No sound aside from the muffled distant voices, the faint rush of a car passing on the street, and the restless hum of the city beyond the gates of the library.

Eli closed his eyes, drew in a long breath of the night air then exhaled slowly. As if he’d been holding everything in too long. With it, his shoulders loosened slightly.

Luchino only watched him. He knew he had something to do with Eli's state now. That it was his words that had left him here in silence, looking worn in a way he had never seen before. It crushed him.

After a moment of silence, Eli’s voice broke it.

“…I should be finishing the monthly report right now.” He said quietly, almost to himself. “But my head isn’t… working as it should. That’s not supposed to happen to me.”

“Hmp.” Luchino glanced sideways, his arms folded. “You spent weeks trying to convince me to take breaks, Eli. Now you’re  ignoring your own lessons?”

Eli let out a tired, humorless laugh. “All those times I thought I was helping… I was probably just getting in the way. An inconvenience you tolerated.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m stubborn enough to ignore advice I don’t want.” Luchino's voice sharpened. “And I didn’t ignore yours. If I listened, it’s because I considered it important.” 

For a moment, Eli almost smiled, but it faltered quickly. “I thought the same. I was so sure that I was giving something that mattered.” He shook his head faintly, shoulders sagging. ”But… Sometimes I can’t tell if I’ve truly been helping anyone, or if I’ve just been pretending.”

Luchino’s brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing on him. “What do you mean?”

Eli hesitated, before lowering his head. “Maybe I’ve just been saying those things to feel useful… Convince myself I’m doing enough.” 

For the first time that night, Luchino leaned closer. “You don’t need that." He said firmly. “You already do more than enough. Everything and everyone there–” He tilted his head towards the library doors. “runs because of you.”

“I know I do a lot.” Eli pressed his lips together “Everyone expects me to always know what to do, the right thing to say. I believed the same.” His gaze dropped to the ground, with shoulders inwards. “But when I falter, like today, it feels like proof that I was never that person at all.”

“Listen to yourself.” Luchino scoffed. “You’ve held this place together for years. One mistake doesn’t erase that. If people expect you to know what to say, it’s because you’ve shown them you can. You don’t have to prove yourself every second.”

The earnestness in tone that made Eli’s breath catch. He kept his eyes fixed on his hands, pressed together.

Doubt still lingered on him. He rubbed his thumb against his hand, meditating about the words. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, reluctant.

“You know…” He started quietly. “I’ve always been good at reading people. Noticing the things others miss, understanding what they don’t say. It’s something I have always been proud of.” 

His eyes flickered up briefly, before dropping again.  

“But with you… I feel like I’m failing.”

Luchino clenched his jaw. He didn’t answer right away, but he finally admitted. “You’re wrong. You understand me better than anyone else ever has.”

“Do I?” Eli asked, a thread of exasperation in his voice. “Because I've misread you so badly... Maybe I’ve been wrong about all of it. About what you wanted. About what I was allowed to be to you.”

“Eli–” Luchino muttered, but Eli pressed on.

“I can’t help but wonder if I’ve been imagining it all…”  He swallowed, eyes tightening like the words cost him.  ”I know better than to assume closeness, but–”

“You haven’t imagined it.” Luchino cut.

The words left his mouth before he could stop them.

“You matter to me. More than I ever expected... More than I should admit.” He said in a lower voice. The conviction on his tone left no space for argument. "To the point I can’t quite picture my days without you in them anymore.”

Realizing immediately how much his words had revealed, he cleared his throat, turning away.

“I mean… I’ve gotten used to your company. After all these months.” 

It was a clumsy attempt to soften the intensity of his admission. But Eli didn’t seem to mind.

Instead, his expression softened. The tension that had been lingering inside of him all day finally slipped away. He slowly reached out, his hand rested gently on Luchino’s arm. The unexpected touch sent a subtle tremor through the researcher's spine. 

“I've also gotten used to you.” Eli murmured, in a small smile. Then, after a pause: “Thank you.”

This time, Luchino didn’t retreat. Even with his heart racing, he turned and met Eli’s eyes.

“You’re welcome.”

They sat in silence for a while.

Now things were solved, he noticed the world around them more clearly.

It was a nice night. 

The wind had become fresh, no longer freezing. The street in the distance was quiet, a few passersby walking by. Above them, a half-moon sat in the sky, accompanied by a few scattered stars. And in the stillness, the faint sound of crickets could be heard from somewhere nearby.

Eli seemed to notice too. He had tilted his head back, gaze fixed on the sky. The lamplight traced his profile – the sweep of eyelashes, the outline of his cheeks, the soft curve of his mouth. His deep eyes seemed to glow with the moonlight reflected on them. Almost brighter than the stars over them.

Or at least, that's how Luchino saw him at that moment.

The longer he looked, the more he wanted to fix this image into his memory. His eyes traced the calm in Eli’s posture, with the way his chest raised and fell softly as he breathed, along with his lips part slightly.

As soon as he found himself staring, his eyes flickered away. They set in nothing in particular, trying to stop the weight that started to settle on his chest once again.

But the thought lingered in his mind.

It couldn’t be so terrible to admit, at least to himself, what he already knew. Denying, pushing it down hadn’t change anything. It never would. Not when it had grown so strong that it had taken over him deeply.

And now, after everything, Eli didn’t push him away either.

Maybe it wasn’t so terrible to allow himself feel this. Maybe it was something worth finding a way to make it work out.

He drew in a slow breath.

If he’d already let himself say this much without disaster, perhaps there was no harm in taking another risk.

“Hey…” He began. “You’re free this weekend, right? There’s a place I’d like to take you.”

Chapter Text

The morning of that day was pale and clouded. 

Eli stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his collar. For the third time. And it still didn’t sit right.

The plan had sounded simple when proposed. “There´s a lecture about ecology of the heathland at the museum. I thought... it could interest you.” Luchino had explained.

The museum was familiar ground to him. He visited it before, occasionally with Aesop or Helena. Maybe Naib if he showed enough enthusiam. Though more often alone. 

So a lecture there should be ordinary. And yet the thought of it made his pulse quick in ways he couldn’t control.

He looked at his reflection again. A light shirt, brown check-pattern trousers, polished dark shoes. Nothing unusual. Nothing he hadn’t worn a hundred times before. But it all felt different today… because of who would be standing beside him.

A familiar trill made him turn. Brooke was staring at him, head tilted, from her perch. Curious, or maybe judging the amount of time he had spent there.

Feeling the need to explain himself, he murmured. “I’m not nervous.”

Brooke only kept staring. Eli huffed softly and reached for his phone.

The message on the screen was still open: Luchino’s last confirmation of the meet up. Eli traced it absently with his thumb, struck by how natural it now felt to have the man’s name between his contacts, when months ago he would never have imagined needing it. 

He put his coat on and smoothed it down, then glanced at the mirror for the last time. Then, he stepped out the door and locked it behind him.

Arriving fifteen minutes early should be enough, he thought. Enough to gather himself, at least.

The Museum wasn’t far. Eli already knew which bus would take him there. After a short ride, he stepped down onto the pavement. A faint trace of morning fog still in the air, making the outline of the buildings soften.

The Natural History Museum looked even more impressive that way. Columns framed the entrance and continued along the sides, and stone steps led up to the giant double wooden doors. A banner hung above them, announcing the lecture: “A year on the Heath”

A handful of people gathered around the entrance. A few students, some older people, and what seemed to be researchers. And among them, a tall familiar figure.

Luchino stood near one of the pillars. A phone rested on his hand, a faint crease on his brow while looking down to it. He was well put together, without being too much. Dark jacket, dress trousers and a scarf – nothing extraordinary. Yet seeing him there, outside the walls of the library provoked an odd, but warm jolt on him.

Feeling a presence nearby, Luchino lifted his head and met Eli. With it, his features seemed to subtly soften in a second. “Hello.” He greeted, his voice quiet, sliding the phone into his pocket.

“Hi.” Eli returned, giving a small nod of acknowledgment. “Have you been here for long?”

“Not really.” Luchino replied, with a small headshake. “Perhaps earlier than necessary. But I’d rather that than risk being late.”

Eli’s lips curved faintly. “Seems we both thought the same. Though I expected to be the first one.”

The scholar let out a low huff, almost a quiet laugh. “You’re not the only one who values punctuality.” He tilted his head toward the entrance. “Shall we?”

The two stepped through the tall doors. On the walls of the entry halls, there were pictures of the town in its early days and shots of the surrounding vast forest and the heathlands nearby. Their eyes drifted from one to another, but neither slowed the pace. Their footsteps echoed soflty on the marble floor, mindling with the ones from the people heading the same way.

The auditorium’s hall was dim. The visitors filled it with a low hum of voices. Rows of cushioned seats curved toward the podium at front and the broad projection screen behind it. They picked a pair on the third row. The moment they sat, the awareness of the proximity struck.

Luchino leaned closer to murmur. “Is it fine here?”

“Yes.” Eli replied with a short nod. “Clear view without being too close.”

Around them, the rustle of papers and the faint clatter of laptops began could be heard as the hall was filled. Some people settled notebooks ready, others spoke in hushed tones.

Eli unfolded the program they’d been handed at the door. “I'm particularly curious about the Hidden Species segment.” He said. “I wonder if I will learn about some I didn’t know about.”

Luchino shifted slightly to glance at the paper between Eli’s hands. “Hm. Sounds interesting.” He said, before tapping at another line at the bottom. “But Conservation Challenges… it’s probably worth listening to.”

Eli’s lip twitched in a smile. “I’m sure you can expand on it for me later.” 

A soft huff of chuckle from Luchino. He tipped his head towards him, his voice low enough for Eli alone.  “If you want a private lecture, I can hardly refuse”

Before Eli could answer, the overhead lights dimmed, drawing attention to the front. The speaker was already at the podium, arranging notes. The rumor of voices in the room faded into anticipation.

“It’s starting….” Eli said under his breath.

At the podium, the lecturer lifted his head. “Good morning…”

After a brief introduction of the habitat of the sandy heaths, the slides shifted to the life they harbored. From the native reptiles, to the flowering of heather, to striking green tiger beetles and silver butterflies, to a sweep of nightjars. The light of the shifting images flickered faintly across their profiles. 

Eli sat straight in his chair, hands folded neatly on his lap and eyes fixed on the screen. Every so often, his posture tilted forward slightly. Recognition sparking when familiar details appeared, quiet focus tightening when he caught something new.

Beside him, Luchino had leaned back, arms crossed. At first, his gaze had been sharp, assessing the accuracy of each detail. But when he let his eyes wander sideways, the sight of Eli made him pause. The stillness in his expression, the Soft line of concentration that made him look almost illuminated in the shifting light.

As the lecture unfolded, his posture changed. His shoulders loosened and his expression eased. He followed the presentation, as well as Eli’s captivation.

The lecture continued, now going over the way heathland shifted with the seasons. The vibrant purple and yellow of summer would fade to a muted brown with winter, visible life would be replaced by a profound silence.

The screen brightened showing a dusk sky with nightjars in flight to migration.

Eli drew a long, quiet breath, eyes on the fading horizon in the picture. He shifted slightly in his chair, closer without meaning to, to the faint warmth radiating from Luchino beside him.

“They travel thousands of kilometers.” Eli murmured. “And still find their way back to the same patch year after year.”

 “I remember you liked that one.” Luchino murmured in quiet observation.

“I do.” Eli said. “Their call is a real wonder. I’ve gone out to hear them before.“

From the podium, the lecturer’s voice continued. “…the heath endures because of change itself. Species arriving, departing, adapting. Its strength lies in what it risks losing and what it somehow always manages to regain.”

“Almost poetic, isn’t it?” Eli murmured.

“Hm.” Luchino’s face set in profile against the pale wash of projected light. “It is.” He replied low.

Around them, notebooks rustled, pens scratched across paper, keys tapped lightly. But neither Eli nor Luchino moved to write anything down. Instead, they sat forward, drawn not only by the lecture itself but by the unspoken exchanges slipping between them in the dark.

The lights finally brightened as the presentation ended, the last slide fading to black. Applauses echoed across the hall. Then, the shuffle of gathering of papers, the creak of seats and low chatter as people left the room.

The pair didn’t move immediately. For a moment they remained still in their seats. Eli was still faintly dazed, gaze towards the blank screen, until awareness drew him back. 

When he turned his head, his eyes found Luchino’s. At first, the man’s expression was unreadable. But then, the smallest curve at the corner of his mouth, almost in a smirk. It carried the quiet satisfaction, almost pride, of something that had just unfolded exactly as he intended.

Not just the success of the lecture, but the simple fact of being here, beside him.

Eli understood it. He answered with a small knowing smile, that said without words: Yes. This was good. I’m glad too.

For some seconds, they lingered, holding the look. Until Eli finally rose, and Luchino followed smoothly, making their way toward the exit.

The brightness of the outside blinded them for a few seconds as they stepped out of the museum. The cool air brushed against their faces. 

“...That part of the tiger beetles surprised me.” Eli commented as they walked. “I didn’t know they were such precise indicators of soil health.”

“They are efficient hunters.” Luchino replied. “If the soil fails to sustain their prey, they leave without hesitation. Simple as that.” He nodded to himself.“Their absence marks decay in the system before most notice it.”

Eli glanced at him. “You sound like you’ve already started drafting your own paper on it.”

Luchino’s lips quirked, as he glanced back to Eli. “Perhaps I am.”

They stepped aside letting the stream of people walk past them. Neither of them seemed in a hurry to leave.

A silence stretched.

Then, Luchino, shifting his weight. “Are you… hungry?” He asked, holding the edge of his sleeve in a rare show of hesitation. “It was early.  Maybe you haven't had breakfast.”

“I did.” Eli said. But then, he added: “But… I don’t mind having something to eat.” 

The pause that followed was brief but telling. Luchino’s head lifted, pleased by the answer.

“There’s a cafe a few blocks from here.” Eli said. “It’s good. Quiet.”

“Then I’m trusting you.” He replied with a smirk.

It was a small, common cafe, on the corner of a street. The smell of roasted beans and baked goods received them as they stepped inside. The place was warm, almost like a refuge from the still pale day outside.

They settled into a table near a window. Sitting across from each other felt strange. Intimate. Eli’s chest tightened at the awareness. For his part, Luchino found it impossible to let his gaze look away the way he usually did when things pressed too close. Not with Eli directly before him.

When the waiter brought the menus, Luchino immediately lowered his gaze. He studied the options with maybe with too much seriousness, enough for Eli to see through.

After a moment, Eli tilted down his menu, eyes peeking over its edge. “So, what are you getting?” He asked lightly.

“Still deciding.” Luchino replied, without lifting his eyes.

“Won’t you have coffee?"

“Probably.” Luchino said. “Althought I doubt it will be as good as yours.” He admitted.

It provoked a soft smile on Eli, impressed by the casual honesty.

Luchino tapped the menu with a finger, as if to cut the moment short. “Anyways… if I am already out, I might as well have something different from what I usually have.”

Eli exhaled softly through his nose, returning his attention back to the menu. “I think the same. I’ll have….”

Luchino's eyes dropped to Eli's plate. 

“A cake.” He said, tone dry but amused. “You will have chocolate cake for breakfast.”

The plate between them holded a chocolate cake. The brown sponges were layered with pale yellow cream, topped with a generous swirl of whipped cream. Chocolate sauce trailed down its sides, with a mint leaf crowning the top. And if it wasn’t enough, a scatter of tiny chocolate pearls circled it as decoration.

“I said I already had breakfast.” Eli countered, pulling it a little closer.  “I’m just making you company, since you probably didn’t.”

“Hey. That’s not–” 

Eli arched a brow. “Did you?”

Luchino paused. His lips pressed together before he admitted. “...No. I haven’t.”

“Though so.”  Eli’s glance dropped to the other’s plate.

A turkey sandwich, far from modest, sat there. Layers of the meat spilled past the bread. Lettuce and cheese peeked out at the edges. 

Luchino looked down to it, then back to Eli. A smirk tugged in his mouth. “I thought you wanted me to eat.” It was an echo of Eli’s reminders, from months ago. The ones he’d repeated often enough when Luchino buried himself in work and forgot meals altogether.

“I do.” He replied, pointing his spoon light in his direction. “Enjoy it.”

Something in the tone made Luchino’s smile settle into something softer. He looked down again, finally picking up his knife and cutting into the sandwich, almost obedient.

They had been speaking as they ate. The conversation went between observations of the lecture and the details of the morning walk there. Eventually, it circled to the museum itself.

“I’ve been there multiple times, actually.” Eli said, resting his fork gently on the plate. “The first time was when I was just a kid. I remember standing in front of the glass displays for hours. It seemed the whole word had been captured there. Waiting.”

Luchino gave a low hum. “So you’ve always been like this, then? Drawn to preserve, to collect?”

“I suposse.” Eli shrugged. ”Although I didn’t think of it that way back then. They said I was just curious.”

He took another bite from the cake, while Luchino tried to not look to attentive to the enjoyment on Eli's expression as he savoured it.

“Is that why you decided to become a librarian?” He asked, genuinely curious.

“No.” Eli shook his head. “That wasn’t planned at all“

Luchino scoffed softly, lifting his eyebrow. “Hard to imagine. You carry yourself as you were made for it.” 

“I know.” Eli admitted with a small exhale. “It does look that way, doesn’t it?”

And it did. Everything about Eli – his patience, his quiet authority, his meticulous care, his precise memory– fit so seamlessly into the role that it was difficult to imagine him anywhere else.

“It was meant to be temporary.” He explained. “Just until I figured out what I really wanted to do. But I stayed.” 

His fingers brushed against the edge of the table. His voice lowered. 

“My mother wasn’t pleased at first. She said I could do a lot more with my grades, my intelligence. Something with greater status, pay, recognition.” His mouth tightened for a moment. “For a while, I felt the same. I thought settling there was proof I’d wasted potential.”

The admission carried a flicker of sadnes in his tone. But when he lifted his head again, his voice steadied. “But then I found I deeply enjoyed it. I realized how at ease I felt there. And how important it is, what I do. Preserving knowledge. Guiding others to it.”

“It really is important.” Luchino’s answer came firm and without hesitation. “The most noble of duties, in my opinion.And I can't think of anyone more suited for it than you.”

The strong conviction could be felt in his voice. Luchino hadn’t said that to make him feel good. No, not at all. He wasn’t that kind of person. It came from a legitimate philosophy he believed and lived for. It was more than approval. It was recognition, the kind he had quietly longed for. And even deeper, an understanding he hadn’t found anywhere else stuck him.

Eli’s lip curved into a genuine, almost tender smile. “Yes… I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.” He murmured. “Thank you.”

The faint click of cups and low hush of chatter of the cafe filled the space. 

Eli reached his cup. “What about you?” He asked calmly. “Have you always wanted to be a biologist?”

“Mhm.” He nodded. “Since a young age, it has always fascinated me.”

“I read every book I could get my hands on, I attended any exhibition I could reach. Naturally, I went to university to pursue the career. I already had a job in a laboratory before I graduated."

There was a glint of pride on Luchinos voice. As the scholar spoke, his chin raised and his chest lifted, unmistakingly satisfied with himself.

Eli smiled faintly. “Sounds like you have always had everything figured out.”

Luchino chuckled lowly. “I guess. You can't fight a pull that strong. If there's a meaningful goal in sight, the path to follow becomes clear. That’s how I've always worked.” 

“Always?” Eli asked gently.

“Of course.” He paused. His gaze went distant for a moment. “ At least until…” The last words escaped him before he realized. 

Eli tilted his head, studying him. He didn’t need the rest of the sentence, he had quickly catched the implication with one look at Luchino's expression. A weight settled in his chest. “...Until?” He asked in a softer tone.

Luchino clickled his tongue, then forced his gaze back to the table. “Nevermind.“ He shifted in a more casual pose. “Tell me, have you ever thought of writing something yourself?”

They lingered long after their plate had been emptied. They should have part ways, but neither moved even though it was clear the meal was over.

Luchinos pulled his phone. His brows furrowed as he looked at the map, fingers moving with hesitation.

Eli glanced up. “What are you looking for?”

“Just... looking where we are.”

Eli’s eyes flicked to the street outside through the window, then back to him. “You really don’t know? We are in one of the main streets. Half the town passes here.” Amusement softened his voice. “Don’t tell me you’ve been here five months and still haven’t seen more than the heaths.”

Luchino gave a short huff, shaking his head. “I have to admit I haven’t given much thought to… anything else.”

“It’s obvious.”

“But you…” Luchino countered. “Must know this town better than anyone.”

“Of course.” Eli nodded. “I’ve lived here my whole life.”

Luchino slipped the phone back into his pocket, decision made. “Then you can show me around.”

It caught Eli off guard. The surprise pleased him, and it soon transformed into warmth.

Good. Another reason to keep the day from ending.

“Sure.” He said at last with a smile. “It would be a pleasure.”

They left the café behind, slipping into the stream of afternoon passersby. 

Eli took the lead, pointing as he showed Luchino around. A local market, well-kwon shops, fancy restaurants, the town's church… Some buildings had stood longer than either of them had lived.

Luchino listened, occasionally asking a question. His eyes traced the lines of architecture or lingered on the details Eli offered.

After time passed, the streets became busier. Especially in the main street. An occasional passerby brushed them, and the hum of voices made it slightly difficult to talk. As expected, it was the afternoon on a weekend.

Luchino’s mouth pressed faintly into a line. “Crowds have never been my preference.” He muttered.

Eli glanced at him. “Nor mine. The noise makes it hard to think.”

That admission hung between them for a beat, quiet understanding threading through. 

Then Eli’s tone changed, almost mysterious. “In that case… I could show you a place. Much quieter. Not far from here.”

Luchino turned his head toward him, one brow arched. “A secret spot?”

“Something like that.” He said, a trace of excitement . “It’s worth the walk. Trust me.”

There was no hesitation in Luchino’s reply. “Lead the way.”

They left the pavement to get into a path at the edge of the town. It was paved with uneven stone tiles. As they followed it, the sight of the houses were replaced by the woods.

The air was fresh there, accompanied by the smell of damp earth. Leaves crushed under his shoes. Luchino kept close to Eli, while his gaze roamed across. In their way, they passed only a handful of people. Two friends laughing as they hiked, a runner moving swiftly past, a couple walking close, hands held together. The sounds faded as Eli led the way deeper into the trees, until all that remained was the rustle of the leaves and the occasional cry of a bird.

They finally reached an open area that led to a wooden bridge. It arched slightly over a narrow river, the water flowing calmly beneath. Beyond, the river widened into a small quiet lake.

Eli slowed as they approached. “Here.” He said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “This is the place I wanted you to see.”

They stepped onto the bridge together. Their footsteps sounded against the wooden boards. Eli moved toward the railing and rested his elbows against it, exhaling softly. Luchino followed without needing to be asked.

Below them, the river moved steadily. The sunlight was soft, pleasant. A breeze stirred the trees, provoking the faint rustle of leaves. Neither spoke for a while. They simply allowed the silence to exist, as if it belonged to the place.

Eli’s gaze traced the horizon. His breath left him in a quiet sigh.

“I don’t know how this place isn’t more popular.” Eli said quietly. “The view is remarkable and somehow it's barely spoken about. Everyone flocks to the central park, or the businesses on the main road.” 

His lips curved faintly as he exhaled, slower now.

“But I can’t say I mind. I’d rather it stay like this.”

“I wouldn’t have known.” Luchino admitted, eyes following the river downstream. “Like I told you, I had’nt seen much of the town.”

Eli hummed, turning his head just enough to glance at him. “I thought you were being modest. But then again… you’re not exactly the modest type.”

It earned a short laugh. “No… Modesty has never suited me. I’ve never found its use.” He said with a small shake of his head.

Leaning further into the railing, wind tugging at the strands of his hair, he drew in a long breath of the cool air.

“To be honest,” He went on. “The library is one of the few places I’ve really known since arriving.”

“Right. I never understood that…”

Eli shifted on his arms resting on the railing. His voice stayed mild,  with a curious note beneath it.

“...By now, your investigation barely needs the library at all. You had most of the sources months ago. You could’ve kept working from your study.”

Luchino glanced sideways, caught off guard by the directness. His lips pressed together, but a chuckle escaped him. “Don't tell me you got sick of seeing me there. I must have made a fool of myself, showing up for months…”

Eli shook his head quickly, a quiet laugh slipping out. “It's not that! It's just… you didn’t have to. Once you had the sources, you could have worked anywhere.” He said thoughtfully, as his gaze drifted back to the view. “And if you needed to check something, you could have just… borrowed it.” 

A soft huff from Luchino. His eyes dropped back to the water below. Leaves floated by in the current, drawn helplessly downstream. 

So similar to him. Drawn by that building – no, not really the building – in a way he had never intended, or even realized. And, although tender, it was a force he could never fight against.

“No, you are right.” He said at last. His shoulders shrugged lightly, as if his own body tried to diminish the admission. “At some point it was mostly writing. Organizing findings, making corrections, putting it all together… I could have done it all from my study.”

Eli tiled his head at him. “...But you kept coming anyway.”

“Hm. I had no reason to keep coming back, didn’t I?”

Luchino’s eyes stayed on the fading light over the water.

“...I suppose I liked the place.” He said slowly. “Got used to it. To the company.” His eyes flickered sideways, then away again. The words caught in his throat, before continuing softer. “I found it was the one place I wanted to return to.”

The words were ordinary, simple. But Eli knew better. 

To think that Luchino, stubborn, practical, deeply focused on himself and his work, had been choosing to stay close…

His head turned, eyes tracing the sharp lines of the scholar's profile. Luchino’s jaw was tight, one hand gripping on the railing. Gazed fixed firmly on the river.

Is he referring to me? Just the library? The routine? The question burned in Eli’s chest, even when part of him already knew the answer.

The trace of vulnerability in that voice he wasn’t even sure Luchino recognized in himself, and the way those eyes still lingered on the horizon, refusing to meet his, told him enough.

Eli’s lip parted, but no words came. He had spent months watching Luchino, reading him in ways most people never would, and he knew one thing for certain. He wasn’t a man who sought company, much less admitting needing it. 

That small, little admission was anything but casual.

How was he supposed to answer?

His fingers curled against the railing. He tried to come up with something light, maybe a small tease, to ease the weight of the moment. It would be easier to pretend it hadn’t meant as much as it did. But, much stronger than that, was the urge to match that honesty with his own.

To tell him he understood. 

That he had felt the same pull for longer than he realized, even back when he thought it was nothing more than habit. That he had learned and held close Luchino’s small expressions of himself, no longer explainable as politeness and professionalism. That he wanted to keep seeing him, to know him deeper still.

No. Even that felt too little to capture the weight in his chest. That couldn’t be enough for what had grown between them.

The restless thoughts stopped the moment Luchino finally turned toward him. 

Only then they noticed how close they stood. The faint sound of the town, the low rush of the river, the wind through the leaves – all of it blurred.

Eli hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath until their eyes met. The intensity in the man’s eyes that made it impossible to look away. His finger tightened unconsciously against the wood, though it wasn’t enough to escape the pull of that gaze.

And Luchino hadn’t mean to give himself away. But now he had, he couldn’t retreat. Not when Eli watched him in a way he had never felt before. Uncertain and expectant. 

The soft curve of Eli’s mouth and the flicker of blue in his eyes caught by the light pulled him. It pulled him with a force that made his breath shorten and his heartbeat rise. One step closer, one move and there would be no mistake of what he wanted.

Aching for it, his hand slid across the railing as he leaned slightly. just slightly forward. Eli’s lips parted, his chest rising faintly with a shallow, caught breath. 

Luchino’s gaze lingered too long. For a moment, he nearly gave it. He wanted nothing more than closing the distance. 

His breath faltered when he caught himself. 

A flicker of sense, caused by an uncertainty he wasn’t used to feeling, dragged him back. He retreated against the impulse that had nearly undone him. 

He huffed as he looked away. “Sorry…” He muttered. His chest ached with the restraint, his muscles tight as if holding himself back had cost more effort than yielding ever would. “I must be more tired than I realized. The day has worn me thin.”

A muted sound escaped Eli’s throat by the sudden change. His eyes dropped, pretending to focus on the water below, though the rush in his chest made it impossible. 

He didn’t believe Luchino’s excuse. Not really.

Luchino straightened, as if putting distance could undo what had just passed. Yet he couldn’t stop a wry, pained smile tug at his mouth.

Still, his tone came soft. “It’s getting late.”

"Yes...” Eli replied in a quiet voice. Words tried to form on the tip on his tongue. Questions. Maybe an affirmation. But instead, he let out a slow breath. “We should go.” 

The sun was already setting. 

Families walking by in the streets, couples filling the restaurants. Houses and businesss started to lit up their lights. Their shadows stretched long across the pavement.

Neither dared to speak of what had nearly happened by the river. But it didn't leave their minds. The conversation between the two men stayed light.

But every so often, one of them faltered. Eli’s eyes would flicker sideways, lingering a moment too long on the line of Luchino’s profile before darting away again. Luchino would slow his pace, unwilling to let the space between them widen, but not saying a word about it.

When they turned a corner, Eli lightly pointed forward. “Here.” They had reached his street. The houses were simple, their facades visibly old. There were probably families who had lived for generations there.

Eli’s steps slowed as they got closer to his house.

A modest two story house with faded blue walls. Through the windows, there was only darkness visible. As expected, he lived by himself. The garden was simple but well taken care of. Short, well-trimmed bushes at the sides and some white flowers in front of the building decorated it. The tree up front, that seemed to have been there for decades, made necessary to lift the head to see its top.

Luchino's eyes traced the building for a few seconds. Seeing this fragment of Eli's life, although normal, felt oddly intimate.

They stopped in front of the door. Eli dug into his pocket, finger looking for the keys. He held them lightly in his hand, cold metal against his skin.

“Well…” He said in a low, hesitant voice. “This is it.”

“Yes…”  Luchino’s reply came softer that he meant. “Thank you. For today. And for showing me around.”

Eli’s lips curved in a smile. “It was nothing. I enjoyed it.”

“So did I.”

For a moment, neither moved. Eli’s throat tightened, Luchino ran his finger through his hair. There wasn’t another excuse to stretch the day longer. Not when they were already there.

Eli’s hand rested on the doorknob. ”...Goodnight then.“ He murmured.

“Goodnight, Eli.”

The smile lingered on Eli’s as he gave him one last glance. Then, the door closed with a soft click. A moment later, the lights inside flickered on, casting a soft warm glow through the windows.

Luchino remained where he was, still caught by the sight. Being allowed of this glimpse of Eli’s world, and then being expected to turn away from it felt like a direct hit to his pride. Still, he stepped back.

As he walked away in the quiet street, a helpless curve tugged at his lips. A foolish smile. It was embarrassing – a feeling he wasn’t used to at all. He instantly covered with a hand. Yet it didn’t stop the smile to come back again and again and the warmth in his chest only kept spilling over.

Suddenly, the evening air brushed against him, cool enough to make him adjust his jacket.

It was a little too chilly, wasn’t it?

But it wasn’t a surprise. Autumn was getting closer. 

Soon the colder months would come, and with them the lizards would disappear into brumation. And when they did, so would he. His work would be over, his reason for staying gone. That had always been the plan, decided back ago when he couldn't even imagine what he would find here. 

The thought pressed faintly at him, yet for once he didn’t let it settle. Perhaps it was naive, perhaps it was dangerous. But the memory of Eli’s look on him that day made him wonder how certain things really were.

If the heath could lose and regain, if it could survive the shifts and the seasons, then perhaps he could allow himself the same hope.

For now, he clung to the smile. At least for tonight. Even knowing how fragile, even foolish it was.

Chapter Text

The apartment was quiet. Too quiet. 

Some might have called it minimalist. For Luchino, it was simply practical.

None of the furniture belonged to him. Every chair, sofa, and shelf, had already been there when he arrived almost half a year ago. He had never bothered to alter it. No pictures hanging. No trinkets displayed. No sign of real ownership.

The wardrobe was pretty much the same. A small amount of clothing, carefully chosen, all of the best quality: tailored shirts and trousers for lectures, heavier outerwear and boots for fieldwork. Even the palette reflected the same logic: browns, blacks, beige and greys. 

The rest of his belongings were those that followed him from place to place, easily fitting into a few cases. His laptop. Field equipment. Two cameras. A stack of journals. Copies of the papers he was most proud of. Nothing more. He had never been a material man anyway. 

There was nothing that couldn’t be packed neatly and carried with him when it was time to leave. He had grown accustomed to such spaces. Rooms to occupy for a season, and then leave without a trace. A reflection of a life built to keep moving.  

But that morning, as his eyes wandered across the bare walls and corners, it settled differently. Luchino sat at his desk, laptop open in his inbox, its pale glow casting him in faint light. The draft of his report had been sent off nearly two weeks ago. Until the revision returned, there was little to do but wait.

He could have used the pause to start looking ahead. Map out the net project, plan his departure. That’s what he would normally do. Instead, he found himself lingering.

It was impossible for Eli not to notice. For him, the days at the library moved with the same rhythm. The usual quiet shuffle, the common requests from visitors, the familiar work of cataloguing, sorting and guiding. On the surface, nothing had changed. 

Except regarding Luchino. When it came to him, it was almost the same as always. But not quite. Some days, he appeared for an hour. Others, long enough that the afternoon light had already faded by the time he left. And more often than not, he would walk Eli home afterward.

Eli told himself it was temporary. Simply a pause in Luchino’s schedule.

Yet each time he appeared in the doorways, Eli’s chest tightened. The same way his stomach would flutter when their eyes met as he walked from the lecture room. Or how his pulse would stumble when he found Luchino waiting patiently by the desk for his break. With a calm and controlled expression on the outside, but eyes quietly searching for something. Asking for something he didn’t say out loud.

Almost the same as always. But not quite.

The time they spent together didn’t stop at the library doors. Not anymore. Since their day at the museum. Eli had been showing Luchino around the town. A small bakery he was a regular at. A little well known bookshop. The plaza with a fountain, where townspeople met at. Places that had already begun to feel familiar to the researcher through their quiet walks.

That day, Luchino decided to return the gesture. He would take Eli to the heath, where the lizards lived, the place that had drawn him here in the first place.

On the surface, it all felt good. Almost perfect. But beneath, a feeling had been pressing over him. Sharper every time. With every day that passed, his reason to stay here, the lizards he had been studying, was getting closer to vanishing. He would leave —  take another assignment, go to whatever place it required him to. At least, that was what he expected and planned long ago, before he knew what he would find here.

Anything but leaving felt almost like betrayal. A betrayal to himself, to the life he had built, the way he had been for so long.

Was he even allowed to enjoy this, when he still hasn’t changed his plans? To let the hours pass in Eli’s company, when he hadn’t made a decision? When he hadn’t changed the way he lived?

He had already let himself go too far. One more step, one more slip into closeness, and it would be irreversible. He had nearly crossed that line once already, he was aware. The memory of what he almost did, back on the bridge, weeks ago, returned to him. 

There was no excuse for still not having made a decision.

With an exhale, his gaze drifted once more across the apartment. The silence pressed on him.

How foolish it was to imagine another kind of life, after years convinced he didn’t need it? Was there even a possibility for him? And yet, against reason and habit, he found himself imagining what it would even be like.

The tires crunched softly over the gravel as the car followed the narrow track. Ahead, faded  purple stretched across the heathland, from the wide ocean of the last bloom of heather. Its scent lingered in the air, mixed with the deep smell of earth and dry grass. As they drew closer, patches of exposed sand broke through the scrubby vegetation, the low shrubs scattered throughout.

It was the place Luchino had been coming and going for months now.

Eli had visited the heath before. Growing up in that district, it had always been part of the scenery. But never like this. Never through the eyes of someone like Luchino, who seemed to belong to the place in a way no one else quite did.

The car came to a stop. As soon as it did, the dry, crisp air reached them. The scholar was the first to step down, stretching loosely before inhaling deeply. He crouched, letting the fine sand, faintly warm from the morning sun, run between his fingers. “Here we are,” he said quietly, with a small smile.

Eli followed, stepping down and moving to stand beside him. Mid-morning sun spread over the open land, its texture becoming clearer now. The wind moved the rusty grass softly, some insects walking through. “It’s so quiet here…” Eli said. “The town feels far away.”

Luchino straightened slowly. “This stage of the year looks deceptively still. But it isn’t.” He brushed the sand from his fingers. “Everything is adjusting, just out of sight. Even if you can’t see it yet.”

Eli nodded, one hand resting on the camera hanging from his neck. His gaze swept the heat again, curious. “I guess that just means we have to look a little closer,” he said. “I’d like to see it.”

A faint smirk tugged at Luchino’s mouth. “Then let’s start.”

“...I came a few days ago.” Luchino had been explaining as they walked deeper into the heath. The field bag in his hand swung lightly, its content shifting with a soft rustle. He hadn’t brought much, as it wasn’t a day to record data for his investigation, but to show and observe together. Just the basics: a thermometer, binoculars, a small scale, a notebook. “The hatchling had already appeared. Running everywhere,” he continued. “Too many to keep track of, really.” He shook his head. “I knew the area was well preserved, but even then, it amazed me.”

“Too many to keep track of?” Eli repeated, glancing at him. His boots crunched the dry vegetation. “Though you still tried, didn’t you?”

Luchino let out a short laugh. “Of course. I had to.” He looked sideways — Eli was already rolling his eyes. “And before you said it, it wasn’t stubbornness. Population estimates matter. It lets you know how many make it through this stage.”

Something small darted across the sand, near the edge of the path.

“I think I saw one.” Eli pointed.

Luchino turned his head sharply. “There, by the bush.” His voice dropped. “Careful.”

They stepped lightly, eyes on the ground. Surprisingly, they weren’t hard to spot. Several tiny lizards scattered across the sand, their movements quick and erratic, vanishing and reappearing between the vegetation. In quiet wonder, the two men crouched down together.

“They’re only a few weeks old,” Luchino said quietly.

“It’s hard to believe they’ll survive,” Eli murmured. “They are so small…”

“They are,” Luchino agreed. “When I came, they were even smaller.” He illustrated the size, holding his fingers in a short distance apart.

Eli lifted the camera. “Do you mind if I…?”

Luchino shook his head. “Not at all. Just be careful with the flash.”

“Of course,” Eli whispered. He crouched lower, careful to not cast a shadow over the scene, with a knee pressing into the sand. The world narrowed to the camera lent, fixed on one hatchling that had paused in its movement. Its dark eyes alert, its body, not bigger than a thumb, completely still.

Finger lightly on the button, Eli adjusted the focus. And clicked. 

The shift on his weight was slight, but enough. The hatchling and a few others startled, then darted in a quick burst, disappearing beneath the dry leaf litter. Embarrassed, Eli winced. “Oh… Sorry…” 

Seeing the lizards didn’t flee far, Luchino let out a soft huff. “It’s all right,” he said quietly, glancing at Eli. “They’re skittish at that age.”

“I can imagine… Everything must be a threat to them.”

“It does.” Luchino leaned a little closer, lowering his voice. “If you stay still, they will settle again.” He tilted toward a patch of sand. One hatchling had frozen near, flattening its body against the sand. “There… That’s perfect.”

Understanding, Eli exhaled. He waited a few seconds, before lifting the camera again, slower this time. Holding his breath, he started taking the pictures. Rather than watching the lizards, Luchino just watched Eli — the care of his hands, the way his shoulders relaxed once he felt more confident, the quiet focus sharpening his expression. 

From the corner of his eye, Eli caught the gaze and raised an eyebrow. Clearing his throat, Luchino looked away and returned his attention back to the sand, back to what he knew well. “They are looking for food,” he said softly.

Eli’s eyes lingered on him a second longer before following Luchino’s gaze. “Because of winter,” he replied.

Luchino nodded. “If they don’t build enough reserves now, they won’t wake up in spring.”

They watched them in silence as the hatchlings resumed to their restless movement. Driven by instinct, darting and stopping, vanishing and reappearing again.

“And the adults?”

“Harder to spot this time of the year,” Luchino replied. “We might see a few later, but it’s becoming rare.”

“Why’s that?”

“They’re conserving energy. Most had been spent during breeding season.” Luchino straightened slowly, eyes scanning the low vegetation. “They’re heavier, slower now.”

“They retreat to survive.” He nodded. “Movement costs more than it gives back.”

Luchino glanced at him, slightly surprised, then smiled, clearly pleased. “Exactly. It’s the wiser choice.”

Eli returned the smile, letting the camera rest against his chest. “I hope we get to see them.”

They were going to see them, definitely. “Come.”  Luchino placed a hand gently on his shoulder. His voice softened. “They tend to stay closer to the burrows now. We’ll have better chances further on.”

They had been walking for a while now, guided by Luchino. The location of the burrows he had previously identified were marked on the map, handed to Eli. Its paper was already creased from being folded and unfolded throughout time. “I’ve also marked where I think they'll be," the scholar added with a smirk, tapping one of the notes in pencil. “Purely based on experience. But I have a good feeling about it.”

Eli glanced down at the map, then back up at the landscape stretching around them. They hadn't been moving in a straight line; their pace had slowed by frequent stops in their walk. Sometimes it was Luchino pointing out a plant, explaining its impact on the soil. Other times, it was Eli kneeling down to take a closer look at a bug crawling through the grass, imperceptible to others. Not particularly hurried, exchanging observations that drifted into anecdotes and quiet jokes, letting the wind pass over them. It was comfortable.

They had been laughing about a past event gone wrong at the library, where Luca and Tracy had made the projector blow up, when Luchino stopped.

“Wait.” His head turned, eyes scanning the ground. He gestured with his fingers for the map, which Eli handed over. “Around here…” he murmured, brows furrowing slightly. To take a better look of it, he placed the map over his thigh, with a leg over a nearby rock. His lips moved as he retraced under his breath.

Eli watched him — how the world seemed to narrow around the man. Without thinking much of it, his fingers brushed the camera strap. He lifted the device, positioning it in frame, then clicked.

The flash fired. The sudden, bright white light cut across the heath. And over Luchino, who startled, lifting his head sharply.

Eli's heart jumped. He fumbled with the camera, fingers scrambling over the buttons. “Oh, darn!”

Luchino blinked, his eyebrows furrowed briefly as he met Eli’s panicked expression. “Were you…?” he started, feeling his face getting hotter as the realization hit.

“I– I just wanted to capture the moment,” Eli rushed to explain. “You looked so focused, I thought—"

Eyes still blank, Luchino’s lips curved, making Eli shudder. He didn't know what to expect. Maybe a curious comment, or mild annoyance. Teasing, at worst. Definitely, he didn't expect a laugh.

It wasn't the chuckle he often gave, but a surprised, genuine laugh that broke the tension in a second. Eli's shoulders relaxed with that warm sound, the unguarded sight of his expression. And what could he do but laugh along?

The burrows marked days earlier weren’t far. As they drew closer, Luchino slowed, raising a hand to stop Eli. “Look…” he said softly, pointing ahead. “There.”

Half-buried in the sand, a lizard lay motionless, except for the faint rise and fall of its body. Its color blended seamlessly with the surrounding ground — Eli needed a few seconds to distinguish it, eyes narrowing as he focused. Alone, he might have walked past without ever noticing it.

“A male. Testing the site,” Luchino stated in a low voice. 

“Its colors…” Eli murmured. “They're dull. Nothing like the photos you showed me.”

“Yes. Those were their breeding colors. By mid-September, males have already lost them.” He said, watching the animal closely. “We were lucky we had found one, as many have gone under by now. It’s more common to find females this late.”

Recalling the explanations, Eli nodded, then carefully lifted the camera and took a photograph.

After a moment, the lizard shifted, dragging itself away slowly from the hole it had made.

“Seems it wasn’t convinced,” Eli said quietly.

“They don’t choose it lightly,” Luchino replied. “Moisture, depth, safety… The sand has to be just right.”

“So they don’t decide right away.”

“No.” A small shake of his head. “They test several sites.” He paused, then added, quieter. “But once they are sure, they don’t leave.”

They moved on, following the sandy patch. Ahead, several shallow openings clustered together. A lizard lingered at the edge of its burrow, body angled toward it, as if already tethered.

“That one.” He nodded toward it. “See how close it stays? How it's already settled?”

“It looks… certain."

“It has to be,” Luchino said. “This is the point where instinct tells them to stop wandering.”

They stayed there a while, just watching. Already half withdrawn from the world above, the lizard barely moved now, its body pressed close against the sand, conserving even the smallest amount of warmth. Then, slowly, it slipped into the opening, vanishing until only disturbed sand remained on the surface.

Luchino didn’t say anything else. Arms loosely crossed, gaze fixed on the ground as though committing the scene to memory. And Eli joined him, standing beside, sharing the quiet Luchino had learned in the field. The quiet of waiting, letting patterns reveal themselves without interference. The one he understood well, along with understanding the man, by now.

Time passed without them noticing.

The heath around them felt quieter as more lizards found their place. No sudden movements, no careless wandering. Eli's eyes followed the burrows, then drifted across the open land. Even the wind seemed gentler now, brushing the dry grass without urgency. Somewhere farther away, an insect chirred restlessly.

“So,” Eli said, after a moment. The camera rested forgotten against his chest, “when do they disappear completely?” His gaze lingered on the disturbed sand.

“Late October, usually." The tone stayed casual, conversational. “Sometimes earlier.” The heath around them had already begun to reflect it. The heather was duller now, its color drained. Everything preparing. Everything retreating. “Once the cold really sets in, there’s not much more to record.”

Eli nodded lowly. “This is the closing stretch.”

“Yes." Finger tightening briefly at the thought, Luchino adjusted the strap of his field bag. “The fieldwork phase ends here.”

A pause followed.

It was something he should have known about; he just hadn’t thought about what it meant. 

“...I assume there’s no work during colder months," Eli said at last.

Luchino’s hand stilled against the strap. “No… not until spring.” He drew in a short breath, remaining controlled under the increasing tension in his body. He hesitated, then added quieter. “And even then, it would be someone else continuing the monitoring.”

Eli's gaze didn't move from the sand. “Then," he said slowly, " after they go under… you don’t stay.”

The answer didn't come right away. Luchino's mouth opened, then closed again. This wasn't how he had meant for this to surface. Not here. Not like this. But here they were, and he finally admitted: “Not for long.”

“In about a month.”

A brief nod. “...Yes. Roughly”

“That’s soon.”

Even with the weight sinking in his stomach, there was no accusation in Eli's voice. Just a fact, rising to the surface.

Something in that neutral tone made Luchino's chest tighten. He drew a deeper breath this time, before speaking. “That has always been the plan,” he said, the words burning him. Then, in a softer voice, as if correcting himself. “At least, professionally.”

Eli's jaw tensed almost imperceptibly. “It's expected," he replied in the steadiest voice he was able to keep. His fingers curled faintly. “It makes sense. There’s no reason to stay if you can't…” But he trailed off, eyes on nowhere.

The silence stretched. Luchino just watched him, quiet. Eli hadn't raised his voice, hadn't demanded anything or asked for an explanation. But the disappointment was there, in the stillness of his posture and the look in his eyes.

An apology — that was what he should have offered him. Not only for not talking about this sooner, but for letting things between them drift as they had. For allowing it, for believing foolishly that he could manage it.

But he didn't say any of it. He remained where he was, words caught in his throat. Letting the silence speak for him.

Time passed without either of them naming it.

They kept walking after the conversation, tracing the path through the heath. Luchino pointed out a few more sites out of habit, explaining less now, his voice quieter and Eli listened. They spoke when necessary, until it eased to a quiet comfort.

The daylight shifted almost imperceptibly. The sun dipped lower, casting longer shadows across the sand. Naturally, days were shorter now; evening crept in sooner than expected. Somewhere in the distance, a bird called before falling quiet again.

By the time they stopped to rest, hours had passed since they first arrived. They settled in a patch of exposed ground, where the heather thinned, and the sand caught the last warmth of the day.

Eli reached into his backpack, the zipper rasping softly, and pulled out a small container, its contents wrapped in foil. “Here,” he said, offering one to Luchino.

It wasn’t anything elaborate. Just sandwiches he’d prepared in advance, practical and simple. Still, Luchino hesitated. He stared at it for a moment longer than necessary. A weight tightened in his chest before he reached out to take it. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

Eli’s response was a brief, fragile smile, accompanied by a nod. It was enough to make Luchino’s chest ache again.

They ate in silence. The wind had cooled now, brushing over the heather and dry grass. The world felt slowed, suspended between day and night.

After a moment, Luchino shifted, breaking the quiet. “You’ve been taking a lot of pictures today,” he said, tone light, careful. “Can I… see?”

Eli didn’t answer right away. He looked at him for a moment that seemed eternal, then he gave a small nod. “Yes. Here.”

He moved aside, letting Luchino sit beside, and lifted the camera between them. The screen glowed faintly as Eli scrolled through. the images. Between the pictures, there could be seen lizards caught mid-stillness, patterned flowers, deers standing in the distance, and the wide openness of the heath itself.

Luchino just watched in silence. “You’ve probably already seen all of this,” he murmured.

“Yes.” Eli exhaled, the sound gentle. “But never like this.” The smile that followed was soft, fragile in the truth he didn't try to hide. His eyes held a tired kind of warmth. As if, despite everything, it was safe to stay like this. Just a little longer.

A sound made them pause. Almost easy to miss at first, a melodic whistle that slowed down as it dropped in pitch.

A woodlark.

It wasn't the nightjar Eli was fond of, but it was unique nonetheless. A soft, sobbing whistle that felt like that evening itself. One of the most beautiful sounds in the British countryside, he recalled from one of the many lectures attended.

“Hey," Luchino said quietly, his tone unsure but hopeful, "have you heard that?"

But Eli didn’t answer.

“Eli?” 

Not hearing an answer, he lifted his head. Eli had risen without a sound.

Standing a few steps away, gaze at the open heath, distant on the horizon. The setting sun on his face, caught on the curve of his cheek, on strands of brown hair.

“Here, the day seems to last forever,” he murmured, unguarded and almost absent. “It makes you not want it to end.” A quiet ache, carefully contained beneath the gentle tone.

Placing one hand on the ground, Luchino rose from the floor. The rough, cool stone scraped his palm, but he barely noticed. He stepped closer until he was in front of Eli. “Hey…” he said again, softer.

He lifted his arm without really knowing what he meant to do. It stopped halfway anyway, when Eli finally turned his head, and their eyes met. His hand stayed there, fingers brushing Eli’s arm.

Luchino's breath hitched. Eli's lip parted. For a breathless moment, neither moved.

Before he could stop it, his gaze dropped to that small space between them. To Eli's lips. A hard swallow. How badly he wanted to close that distance. To pull him closer, a hand firm on his back, clutching to him warmly and finally—

Following the instinct, he leaned in. Under the look of Eli's eyes, reason was no longer enough to stop him. Eli tilted his head up in answer, chin lifted barely a fraction, but it was enough to make Luchino's heart stutter.

That’s where he knew: Eli wanted it too, just as badly. Everything he had dismissed as foolish fantasies was confirmed in an instant. Because here he was — the man who was unsettled his focus, his routine, his sleep— looking at him like this. The first person who had made him madly uncertain and, at the same time, devastatingly sure.

Oh, how he wanted him. There wasn't a bigger truth than that. And Eli wanted him back. It was a conclusion that, in perspective, should have been obvious from the start.

Luchino closed his eyes, lips parted, already reaching for what he had been aching for long.

And then Eli stopped, just a few centimeters away. And pulled back.

“I—” A barely audible “Sorry...” escaped his lips, the word almost not making it out, as he looked away. 

Reality crashing in all at once, Luchino’s heart sank. The reality of the plan, the life he hadn't changed nor had dared to say aloud earlier.

Eli stepped back fully now, hands on his sides, made fists. He couldn't look at him, not then. If he did, he might undo himself.

The silence that followed was heavier than anything he could have said.

Luchino forced himself to breathe. His voice came out low, with effort. “Do you want to go back?”

“Yes.”

The way back felt nothing like the way there had. Just like the changing weather, whatever warmth the day had seemed to have drained away with the sun.

The grass crushed under their boots, louder now. The wind had picked up, a chill that brushed the fabric of their outerwear and slipped through it with insistence. In the distance, the woodlark’s whistle returned, a melancholy melody that hung in the space between them until it dissolved into the cooling heath.

They walked side by side, in silence. There was nothing left that could have been said. Or perhaps there was too much. From the path back to the car, through the drive into town, as the fields turned into familiar roads, the quiet followed them.

By the time they reached Eli's house, the sky had dimmed to blue. They stopped where the pavement met the small garden gate, not daring to go further — a small gesture of distance.

“Goodnight, Eli.”

The smile Eli gave was gentle, but didn't reach his eyes. “Goodnight.”

Back in the apartment, the silence pressed in harder than before. It was different from the quiet of the heath — wide and open, breathing of life. Between those four walls, it feel sealed. Accusatory.

Luchino stood there for a long moment, then let himself sink onto the edge of the bed.

What was he thinking?

He ran a hand through his hair, dragging it down slowly. He knew exactly what he had been thinking. Or rather, what he had chosen not to think about. He knew better; knew the line he shouldn't cross and still had let himself move closer.

All caused by his worst, biggest flaw: greed. The same hunger that had driven him forward all his life, that had kept him moving to the next discovery, the next achievement. The one that had brought him everything he had built for himself. And now, it had brought him here.

Staring at the pale ceiling, he exhaled slowly. The memory of Eli pulling back returned. He had seen the conflict beneath it. Even then, he had remained calm, restrained. A softness that was painful than rejection ever could have.

Eli hadn't asked for this, to be drawn into something uncertain. And yet, Luchino had allowed closeness to grow when he knew, from the start, what he might not be able to offer. What right did he have when he knew he couldn't promise anything? It was unfair.

Because he had given him reasons, didn't he? Small, quiet ones, but real all the same.

And even now, he wanted to reach for Eli, to cross the space between them, to hold onto him ass if it could mean something lasting. A foolish, selfish desire. One that had blurred everything else.

To be honest, he had never minded staying unattached to anything. Once, he had even been proud of it. But tonight, surrounded by bare walls and empty shelves, with nothing but his own thoughts, he wasn't so sure anymore. For the first time, it felt less like freedom and more like absence.

When the front door closed behind him, Eli leaned back against it and let his head fall against the wood. His chest still ached with the rush of what almost was. The lean, the nearness, the pause before retreat… what it could have almost been.

Eyes shut, he exhaled slowly.

What had that almost been? He wasn’t sure there would have been anything at all. After all, Luchino would leave. It had been planned long before Eli had even entered in the picture. It was natural, something he should have seen coming.

There was no right to expect anything else. No right to ask him to change his way of life. It would be unfair, selfish. The wanting pressed in anyway.

Was this all it had been, then? A brief warmth before the cold? A passing closeness, meant to fade as quietly a it had formed? Eli's chest ached at the thought. Ache of something he couldn’t allow himself to want, to hope for. But it was too late. 

He could be mad. Mad at Luchino for allowing it to grow. Maybe he should be. But anger never came. The memory of Luchino's eyes in that moment didn't let it. Longing, aching in those brown, deep eyes. Uncertain in a way that mirrored his own.

Whatever that had been, and whatever it almost became, it had been mutual. That made it even harder to dismiss as nothing.

Eli let his head rest against the door a moment longer, his breathing shallow. That wasn’t how it was supposed to feel. Not when nothing had been said, nothing had been promised.

A temporary warmth before the cold, he thought again.