The library was suffocatingly silent, the air thick with tension. Rows of bookshelves stretched endlessly, like soldiers guarding the wisdom of ages. The air smelled faintly of aged paper and wood polish, a stark contrast to the storm brewing between us. The faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead did little to soften the harsh, sterile light that cast sharp shadows on the glossy floor.
I stood there, my breath coming in short gasps, my fists clenched tightly at my sides. My heart pounded in my chest like a drum, the adrenaline coursing through my veins making it hard to think. Across from me, the boy leaned casually against a wooden table, his posture lazy, yet his eyes gleamed with a mix of annoyance and amusement.
"What are you doing here?" I demanded, each word sharp and deliberate, echoing faintly in the cavernous space.
