Page 7 of Raw & Vulnerable

Absorbed in her reading, absently sipping her quickly cooling tea every so often, the world fades for Minnie. The info desk never gets much action at this time of the day anyway and that suits her just fine.

She’s so lost in the words that she jolts in surprise when someone clears their throat directly in front of her. Looking up in wide-eyed fashion, Minnie sits back in surprise when she sees two tanned hands resting on the desk in front of her, attached to strong wrists. A viper crawls down the left forearm and Minnie’s eyes move up to the face attached to the limbs.

Hard hazel eyes are watching her, empty of any decipherable emotion. Male boredom is in the lines of his face, arrogant or perhaps only detached from the situation. Not the friendly sort of ‘good-looking’ that draws people in, but more so a dominant, intense personality that shines through what would normally be called pleasant features. Minnie flushes; she’d been thinking of this body last night.

“Am I interruptin’?” He drawls, his husky voice daring her to say yes.

Heisinterrupting, not that she’s going to say it out loud. Making sure that she hasn’t spilled green tea everywhere, Minnie closes her book and forces a nervous smile on her lips. “Oh, of course not. I get lost when I read, I didn’t even notice you standing there. I’m sorry about that.”

He says nothing.

Oh, Minnie hates when men do this; when they hold their tongue while she babbles and then she feels like she needs to babble more to fill in the awkward silence. Struggling to think of something else to say in the face of his vast disinterest, Minnie sits primly in her seat, adjusting the high collar of her blouse. His eyes catch on the movement, drifting downward slightly in a way that makes Minnie feel embarrassed. “Do you need help with something?” Her voice is precariously high, far too youthful sounding.

She wishes that she sounded more smokey, like a mysterious woman in the movies. She also wishes he wasn’t still here, invading her library. He’s almost becomingroutine. Shealmostdoesn’t feel a shiver of nervousness when she sees him now.

Almost, but not quite.

“There’s a book I’m lookin’ for that I can’t seem to find on the shelves. The catalog says it’s here and not checked out.”

She makes a clicking sound through the side of her mouth. “Someone could be walking around with it.”

He doesn’t blink at that, eyes half-mast. His body language doesn’t shift, telling Minnie that he’s not going to let her off with that line. Feeling a little anxious under his forceful gaze, Minnie finally shifts off her chair with a little sigh, adjusting her glasses, a nervous habit. “Well, let’s go take a look, shall we?”

She starts walking towards the stairs, which will lead to the reference and non-fiction section, expecting him to follow her. Minnie is utterly mindful of him behind her, imagining his eyes on her back, like a physical touch.

It feels like her back is on fire.

“Don’t you need me to tell you the author or somethin’?” He’s got a way of dropping the ‘ing’ on words, like he’s lazy about it.

Pausing, Minnie half turns to look up at him. “Ah…well I remember you had some engineering class books the other day. Anything else like that would be on the second floor, so…I…ah…”

He scoffs with a hint of derision, arrogance in his voice and face. “Oh. That wasyouthat bumped into me.”

Minnie doesn’t believe that garbage act for a second. He’s not that unobservant, more so stubborn, like a damn donkey. He’s trying to play the ‘you are below my notice’ game to boost his own self-esteem. Fascinating.

She’s not going to flatter herself with the thought thatmaybehe feels inadequate in front of her. Yet, still.Fascinating.

Sure, she’s not that memorable, not to a guy like him. He probably meets girls at bars that have huge fake tits and mini-skirts that don’t hide their rear ends. Something about Minnie is off-putting to him if he’s getting defensive. That strangely makes her feel at ease, emboldened. Her librarian mask intensifies.

Blatantly ignoring his attempt to make her feel less, Minnie moves over to one of the catalog computers. “Type in the book. Show me the specific reference number.”

He steps up next to her and all of Minnie’s supposed empowerment disappears like a leaf in the wind. With his sudden proximity, her bones nearly jump out of her skin, another one of her nervous habits. She scoots to the side to give him more space. He gives her an odd look, noticing how quickly she moved away from him.

Minnie studiously pretends she didn’t do anything out of the ordinary. Maybe she’s a germaphobe instead of jumpy, what does he know? She is, in fact, a germaphobe.

She watches his hands type on the keyboard, his viper and skull tattoo dancing. The snake is crawling through the grotesque skull that takes up the back of his hand. He types in the name of the book, another engineering textbook, probably something from one of the local trade schools. Minnie writes down the reference number.

He presses his finger to the screen, pointing out the section that states the book is still supposed to be on the shelf. “See? It says it’s supposed to be here.”

Minnie feels herself cringing with the urge to get a hand wipe. He’s leaving fingermarks on the computer and it makes her fingers twitch. “Please, don’t touch the screen.”

His hazel eyes, struck through with dark green, slide over to her, scarred eyebrow arched. “What? Is it dirty now?” He runs his finger down from the top of the screen to the bottom, deliberately, watching her face.

Those eyes of his, daring. There’s a hint of feistiness in him.

Pursing her lips, Minnie reminds herself that this is the sort of man that’s looking for a reaction. He wants to goad her, to rile her up, because that’s likely something he finds fun. Minnie, unfortunately for him, isn’t interested in such games. “N-no. But we like to keep things pristine for all patrons of the library.”

“You’re gonna wipe it clean when you’re done helpin’ me, aren’t you?”

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