The morning sun did little to warm the cold satisfaction from the previous night. Jack
woke up, the phantom sensations of his last kill still clinging to him like a second skin.
He went through the motions—rolling out of bed, starting the coffee maker—his mind
a calm, placid sea. He picked up his phone to scroll through the morning's news, but a
new message at the top of the screen caught his eye.
"I'm submitting the book today. Meet me at the library 11 AM."
It was from Rose. A slow, genuine smile spread across Jack's face.
He found himself standing in front of his wardrobe, a place he usually gave little
thought to, and considered his options with uncharacteristic care. He wanted to look
effortless, but the effort was suddenly immense. His eyes scanned the rows of dark,
functional clothing until they landed on a simple red t-shirt. He pulled it out, then
grabbed a pair of clean, white pants. A statement. Simple, but a statement
nonetheless.
Across town, Rose stood in front of her own wardrobe, locked in a similar, silent
debate. She held up two different dresses, her head tilted, weighing their merits. One
was practical and subdued, the other a bit more stylish. She sighed, feeling that
neither was quite right. Her eyes drifted through her closet and, like a magnet finding
its pole, settled on a dress she rarely wore. It was a simple, elegant piece, a striking
combination of red and white. Perfect.
The library was a hushed sanctuary of organized knowledge. Rose was already at the
counter, returning the book, when Jack arrived. He saw her from a distance, her back
to him, and he paused for a moment to admire the picture she made—the way the red
and white of her dress stood out against the muted tones of the library.
He walked up behind her. "Hi."
Rose turned, and her face was a mask of cool indifference. There was no smile.
"You're late."
Jack's grin was wide and unapologetic, the smile of an idiot who knows he's charming.
"Ah, you're so predictable."
She didn't laugh. She simply handed him the book. He took it, their fingers brushing
for a fraction of a second.
"Thanks," he said. "Coffee?"
Rose narrowed her eyes. "I'm busy."
Jack let out a theatrical groan. "Come on, when will you ever get a chance to have
coffee with a fellow Akira fan?"
"Social media exists, dude."
He feigned a mortal wound, clutching his chest. "Social media? Are you fucking
kidding me? I didn't expect this from a girl like you."
Her stare was flat, unimpressed. "What do you mean, 'a girl like me'?"
Jack rubbed his temples, playing up the frustration. "I mean, you have good taste, so I
thought you and I were similar."
A laugh finally escaped her, a short, sharp burst of sound. "Dude, we don't even know
each other's names."
Jack laughed with her, the sound genuine and warm. "I'm Jack. What's your name?"
She sighed, as if the effort was monumental. "Rose."
Jack clapped his hands together with a loud crack. "Huh!" he exclaimed, his voice a
little too loud for the library. "See? We're made for each other."
Rose covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking slightly. "Stop it," she
groaned through her fingers. "It's embarrassing."
"I know it's embarrassing," he said, his voice dropping to a more conspiratorial level,
"but I'm being myself."
She lowered her hands and just stared at him, her expression unreadable. The silence
stretched, and for a moment, he thought he'd lost.
She sighed again, a sound of pure resignation. "Okay, fine. Tomorrow, 5 PM. Alright
with you?"
Jack's face lit up. "Sure! Place?"
"I'll text you."
"Good!"
Another silence fell between them, this one less tense, more expectant.
"You're not acting, are you?" Rose asked, her eyes searching his.
Jack's reply was instant, without a flicker of hesitation. "No. Not at all."
"Good," she said, a hint of something dangerous in her tone. "Because if I ever find
out that you're acting, I'm gonna kill you."
Jack went perfectly still, his smile frozen on his face. He stared at her, the playful
energy between them suddenly charged with a thrilling, familiar darkness.
"That's hot," he said, his voice completely straight.
Rose groaned, covering her face with her hands again. "Not this again."
Jack's laughter echoed softly in the quiet library. "Ha! You love it."