HAPPY MONDAY! okay, this originally started out as a one-shot for Rivetra Week, but now i’m thinking of doing a full fic once i get an ao3 account? i’m just having too much fun with Librarian!Levi lol. let me know what y’all think! i hope everyone has a wonderful week. as always, thank you for reading :)
“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.” ~ Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
She’s here. Again.
Right on time, Levi notes with disdain.
She comes here nearly every Friday evening, carrying an iced caramel macchiato… or what he assumes to be a caramel macchiato from its color and excessive amount of whipped cream. She only ever arrives about ten minutes before the library closes for the evening, which is 9 PM, and stays for at least an hour or two, meaning Levi can’t even begin with his closing duties until she leaves for the night. He can’t help but wonder what kind of sociopath comes to a library in the middle of a Friday night drinking coffee.
Levi doesn’t like her.
This is ridiculous, he grumbles. After all, it’s not like this is his career or anything. He only accepted the job at the university’s library to make a little extra cash, just enough to help put him through grad school, considering most of his tuition is covered by scholarships anyways. But it’s only the first semester of his first year of his master’s program, and he’s already counting down the days until he gets that damned degree. He can’t take this anymore.
He supposes he could always find another job, but most of the other part-time jobs in or around campus involve too much customer-facing interaction. At least at the library, he can stick his headphones in and get some of his homework done. The only time he ever has to talk to the other students is to point them in the direction of a particular author or to tell them to shut the fuck up.
He should be thankful, at least she comes in here to actually read. Most of the kids who come here are just horny couples looking for a quick fuck in the philosophy section. He can’t help but shudder at the thought of how many of them he’s caught defiling Nietzsche. But after a long day of classes, working on his thesis, and enduring a shift at the library, he just wants to go home.
He slams his notebook shut and marches towards her, resisting the urge to pluck the book from her hands and toss it across the table. What does she even read anyways?
“Hey, look, we’re closed. You’ve gotta go home.”
She looks startled to see him, as if she didn’t expect to see another person here so late into the evening. Her amber eyes are wide and when Levi looks at her, he feels a slight tugging sensation at the back of his skull and he’s hit with the strange, nagging thought that he’s met her before. He dismisses it before it can even fester in his mind and he shakes his head. He can feel the ire bubbling up within his chest.
“Also, iced coffee? Really? It’s 9 o’clock.” He nearly cringes at his tone. Sure, he’s being a bit harsh with her and probably unleashing all of his frustration on the poor girl, but who else drinks an iced coffee this late at night? He rubs at his temples; he just wants to get out of here. There’s a cup of earl grey tea with his name on it waiting for him at home.
The girl laughs nervously, it sounds like broken glass, and she tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear. He can’t help but notice that her hair is the same color as her eyes.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what time you close and I guess I just lost track of time.” She stands up abruptly and her chair scrapes loudly against the floor. It’s like nails on a chalkboard. She stammers an apology, hastily collecting her books and papers before slinging her backpack over shoulder, making a beeline for the exit.
She doesn’t get far though. Her foot catches against the leg of her chair and she trips, crumpling to the ground with a yelp. Her books skid across the floor, papers flying into the air. She’s red in the face, sputtering about how sorry she is and how she’ll get out of his hair and how she won’t come to the library that late ever again as she desperately attempts to gather her belongings as quickly as she can.
His heart softens and there’s an unfamiliar ache in his chest. Instantly, he feels his mounting frustration toward her melt away and, despite his best efforts, he can’t help but feel sorry for her. Cursing under his breath, he bends down and begins to help her. She jolts, tossing him a bewildered look before she scrambles to her feet.
“Again, I’m really sorry. You should’ve said something sooner, I didn’t know it was that bad.” She takes the books from his arms, refusing to meet his gaze, even slowly backing up towards the exit. “I’ll, um, see you later… maybe.” She turns on her heel, practically sprinting for the door.
And maybe it’s the way that her deep blush highlights the golden freckles dusted across her cheeks or the way that the light catches in her hair, making it glow even brighter (seriously, who looks good under fluorescent lighting?), but Levi finds that the word tumbles from his lips before he can stop himself.
“Wait.”
He looks almost as surprised as she is.
“Don’t worry about it, you can stay.”
She’s holding her breath, he can tell. “I don’t want to be a bother.”
“Seriously, it’s no trouble.” He sighs, rubbing the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Look, if you want to do me a favor, give me a hand with locking up when you’re done.”
She shifts her feet. “You sure?”
“Don’t make me change my mind.”
She nods, just once, and he can see a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth before she cautiously makes her way back to the table. “Alright, thanks.” She settles herself into her chair and pulls out her book, thumbing through the pages. Levi doesn’t recognize the title, but he knows a cheesy romance novel when he sees it. Tch, typical. It’s even one of those really bad ones with the 90’s-esque models on the front.
…
Fuck, he can’t help himself.
“If you’re gonna read romance, at least pick a decent one.”
She glances up at him, eyebrows knitted in confusion, and the unbidden thought pops into his brain that she’s actually pretty cute.
“Huh?”
“You’re reading a romance novel.”
“…And what’s wrong with that?”
He waves a hand at their surroundings. “I’m just saying, out of the thousands of books available here, you choose romance?”
She laughs, a real laugh that sounds like a wind chime, and shrugs her shoulders. “What can I say? I like what I like,” she says in a matter-of-fact tone.
He scoffs at her and shakes his head. Whatever, he should probably start with the cleaning duties anyways so that when she’s ready to go, he’ll be nearly finished. Start with the trash, then make sure all of the returned books are put away, then-
“Why don’t you like romance novels?”
He nearly drops the broom. “What?”
She won’t look up from her book, but he can see that her lips are curled upwards in a coy smile as she flips the page. “All I’m saying is that you can’t judge me for reading romance when you can’t even give me a good reason not to.”
He quirks an eyebrow. Alright, two can play at this game. “Well, for starters, the plots are entirely predictable, the characters are two-dimensional, and they’re completely unrealistic,” he says, punctuating his words with a particularly aggressive sweep.
She glances up and he notices that she’s pouting at him. Shit, she’s actually really cute. “How so?” she asks with a tilt of her head.
He scoffs. “Seriously? All of that crap they put in there about soulmates, true love, whatever. None of it’s real.”
She purses her lips. “That’s what you think.” She takes another sip of her coffee, sucking the straw, unnecessarily loudly.
It’s annoying.
“What do you mean that’s what I think?”
“It’s fine, you’re entitled to your wrong opinion.”
…
What the hell?
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”
The smirk quickly vanishes from her face and is replaced with utter panic, the tips of her ears are burning bright red. “I-I’m sorry, it was just a joke, I was only trying to be funny, I didn’t mean to offend-”
She’s rambling and it’s damn near painful to watch. She begins gesturing wildly with her hands, accidentally knocking over her iced coffee, and Levi watches in horror as whipped cream spills across the table. She nearly shrieks, jumping from her chair and sputtering about paper towels and how she’ll clean up after herself and how sorry she is and how she’s such a stupid idiot. He can’t help but slightly agree with that last part.
He wordlessly hands her the roll of paper towels from the cleaning supplies and she scurries back to the table, but she only succeeds in spreading the mess further across the wood. It’s nearly dripping onto the floor.
Levi sighs, tossing a rag over his shoulder and grabbing his bottle of cleaning spray. He walks over and holds her wrist, halting her haphazard cleaning. She stiffens beneath his grip and she’s flushing terribly, but she keeps her eyes trained on the table and he can’t help but notice how soft her skin is.
He clears his throat. “You’ve gotta spray it afterwards or else it’ll just get sticky.” He nudges her out of the way. “I’ll do it,” he grumbles.
He can see out of the corner of his eye that her shoulders are shaking and at first, he freezes because he thinks she’s crying, but then he hears a sharp giggle and realizes that she’s laughing, nearly doubling over at the confused look on his face.
She gasps for breath, wiping away a stray tear. “Gee, I really know how to make a first impression, huh?”
He blinks. “…yeah,” he says, drawing out the word.
“Let me start over.” She nearly shoves her hand in his face. “Hi, I’m Petra.”
He stares at her for a moment and, against his better judgement, he accepts. Her grip is surprisingly strong, he notices, and her fingernails are incredibly clean and well-kept. “Levi.”
The girl, Petra apparently, smiles brightly. “Nice to meet you, Levi.” The way her mouth twists around the letters of his name, it makes a knot coil in his stomach. And it’s not entirely unpleasant.
He collects the soaked paper towels with a grimace, tossing them into the trash. “For what it’s worth, I knew.”
“Knew what?” she asks, zipping up her backpack.
“That you were joking. Earlier. About the wrong opinion stuff.”
She snorts. “Well, I’m glad.” She pauses for a moment, as if she’s carefully considering her next words. “And for what it’s worth, I was only partially joking.”
Levi tosses the broom back into the supply closet. “What does that mean?”
“All I’m asking is how do you know you don’t like romance novels when you’ve never even given them a fair shot?”
He shrugs. “Don’t need to. They’re all the same anyway,” he says, tying a knot into the trash bag and dragging it to the door.
“Oh, is that so?” He doesn’t fail to catch the mischievous gleam in her eye.
He turns to tell her yes, that is exactly so when she’s suddenly in front of him, thrusting something into his hands. He blinks, hardly able to read the title through the obnoxious calligraphy on the cover.
“The Midnight Bride.” He raises an eyebrow at her. “Seriously?”
She can barely bite back her grin. “You’ll never guess the ending.”
“Let me guess: she gets married at midnight?”
She stares at him as if he’s ruined the game. “…well, you’ll never guess how it happens.” He rolls his eyes, and she adds quickly, “Just give it a chance. Please?”
And maybe it’s her pleading tone or maybe it’s the way that she’s sucked in her lower lip between her teeth, gnawing at it in her nervous state, but it somehow makes her lips look even fuller and Levi finds himself wondering if her mouth is as soft as the rest of her skin. The thought makes his face heat up.
He doesn’t like it.
He sighs, shoving the book into his worn, leather messenger bag. “Fine, I’ll read it, if it’ll shut you up.” Despite his crass tone, she smiles gleefully at him, clapping her hands together, and a soft chuckle rises up in his throat before he can swallow it back down. “C’mon.” He juts his chin at her. “You’re gonna help me finish closing up.”
They spend the next few minutes in comfortable silence, interrupted only by Levi’s instructions for his meticulous closing (and cleaning) schedule. He shows her where the trash needs to be collected and thrown in the dumpster out back, he shows her how to wipe down the front desk, shows her how to process the returned books. She doesn’t complain, she actually takes his direction rather well. He thinks that she’d make a pretty good assistant. If he ever needed one. Which he doesn’t.
When he’s satisfied with their work, she follows him out the front as he locks the door behind her. “Same time next week?” She winks at him, throwing her denim jacket over her shoulders, despite it being a rather warm night. Her face quickly melts into a sheepish expression. “Just kidding. I really am sorry about always being here this late, I just never knew.”
“Tch, it’s fine. I don’t mind the company,” he admits, both to her and to himself.
She nods, just once. “You better have finished that book by next Friday.”
A ghost of a smirk flashes across his face. “Don’t hold your breath.”
She giggles and begins walking backwards in the opposite direction of the parking lot, holding up her hand and giving him a small wave. “See you later, Levi.”
“Night, Petra.”
He makes his way to his car, tossing his bag into the passenger seat, and begins the short drive to his studio apartment not far from campus, thinking of the steaming cup of earl gray that’s waiting for him.
But for some ungodly reason, he can’t help but wonder what an iced caramel macchiato would taste like.
