Chapter Text
Jon pulls the hair tie out, undoing the bun, as he leans back in his chair, closing his eyes in frustration. He rubs his scalp, trying to release the tension.
He had tried everything, from a blacklight, shining a torch through the paper, using heat, lemon juice, anything he could find that might reveal hidden text on those dark pages, but nothing worked.
He sighs, opening his eyes to glare at the offending book sat on the desk in front of him. He wasted so many hours after the library closed, just to come up with nothing.
Jon straightens in his seat, shaking his head, before sticking the hair tie in his mouth. He runs his fingers through his hair, before pulling half of it back up, tying it back much less tightly this time.
He should go home. It’s already late, and he’s wasted too much of his day on this hopeless project, lost track of too much time trying to find the key to a puzzle that probably isn’t even there.
He pushes himself from the chair, grabbing the black book from the desk, before kneeling, opening up the floor boards, carefully placing the volume back into the secret compartment.
Jon uses the edge of the desk to help himself up, slower this time, in order to not hit his head again. He dusts off his knees, before gathering his belongings, slinging his lunchbag over his shoulder, and grabbing the umbrella leaned against the desk drawers.
He pauses as he reaches the doors, glancing back at the dimly lit library, frowning. His eyes may just be tired from so fervently looking at the black pages, searching for any difference or details, but… The library seems to look darker to him, as if all the lights have started to burn out.
He shakes his head, trying to dispel the nonsensical thought. It’s been a long day, there’s no way the lights are actually any different than they normally are.
Jon turns off the light switches, before exiting the library, locking the mahogany doors behind him. He walks down the hall, thankful that the night classes keep the university functioning so late.
He pauses at one of the corners, hearing the sound of students shuffling out of a classroom, shoes squeaking on the tiles, and softly spoken conversations.
He doesn’t have to wait for them to leave, it’s not as if he would get in trouble for being here late, he is part of the staff, after all. But he doesn’t exactly want to deal with going around a gaggle of tired students.
Jon twists the umbrella in his hand, spinning it around and around as he waits, glad he remembered to bring it as he hears the rain pounding against the windows. He would have hated to be stuck without one.
He hopes that Martin got off before it really started pouring. That is assuming he even worked today, which Jon isn’t even sure off.
He sighs, before venturing forth once again, the noise of the students having died down.