Between Romance and Satire

Under normal circumstances, supervising the patrons in need of the closed reference section is mind-numbingly dull work. In other lines of work, the term supervising might be nice, involving less work and more built-in power the higher up used to terrorize the minions. Or just trolling around newbies.

Supervising scholars fiddling with valuable texts older than her parents or the freaking nation hold no excitement for Keira. It was the most straightforward job desk, in her opinion. She would watch them watch the tomes, caressing ancient parchments, and burst into ooh or aah when being shown the collections.

If she were lucky, she could space out and be in her own fantasy world – or plummeting into the dangerous territory of replaying every little mistake she made in elementary school or many foolish decisions she made in high school. Once or twice, she'd zone out completely and forget the scholars entirely later. And by that, she meant everything became a blur, and suddenly she'd be in her pretty decent apartment, sipping coffee while Too Hot to Handle played on her TV screen.

If she were unlucky, the scholars would not stop ordering her to bring a book or ten, crowning her as the library's free-to-use slave. Although, all slaves were free to use. That was what made them be called an enslaved person. She was against slavery, mind. It was the vilest thing humans ever did to their own kind, taking one's free will. She was ashamed that slavery ever existed in her own country, a dark history many people tried to forget.

Supervising Nathaniel Wolfe, on the other hand, was quite an experience.

Mind the sarcasm.

Although, she had to give it to him. Mr Wolfe had slaughtered the mind-numbing notion of supervising a scholar like a knight in shining armor slaying a red dragon.

"Look at that," he pointed to the corner of the Historical Fiction aisle, where a young couple, probably high schoolers, were arguing in hushed tones while pulling and putting books back on the shelves. "I bet you a hotdog that they end up making out before deciding which book to read together."

"Ew. Not in my library," Keira muttered in disgust.

"Don't tell me you never make out in the library?"

"Mr Wolfe–"

"Call me Nate, please."

"Mr Wolfe," she repeated firmly, having no desire to cross the boundaries between a librarian and the most annoying patron of the week. "Please don't say inappropriate words here."

"What inappropriate words? I just ask you–"

"You're right, forgive me but let me repeat," Keira said as the telltale sign of a headache crept in slowly. "Please don't insinuate anything inappropriate here."

"I was just asking," Nate grumbled at first, but then a grin appeared on his handsome face. "You mean I can 'insinuate' anything inappropriate out of here?"

"What you do outside this library is none of my business."

"Good to know."

Keira suddenly felt something foreboding as Nate said that. Which was ridiculous. They wouldn't meet outside the library. Nor did she want that. Frankly, after he got the book he looked for, Nate would be out of her hair.

"Because, you know," Nate continued when she didn't respond. "I can tell you many dirty words for our after-date activity."

Keira stopped on her track. A heavy frown adorned her imperfect face. "Wha- what?"

"Well, I can also whisper sweet nothings, if you prefer. I wouldn't mind playing vanilla just for you."

"What did you say?"

Nate also frowned, just not quite heavily. "Do you have a hearing problem? I can call my doctor right now."

"No," Keira held up her hand, trying to form a sentence from the overlapping unbelievable questions in her mind. "I mean," taking a deep breath, she asked incredulously, "What do you mean by date?"

Nate stared dumbly. It was then that Keira indeed saw how brilliant his electric blue eyes were. She didn't particularly like the color blue, but she could stare at his eyes for days if he just stayed silent and was good. Nate, however, blinked after a moment as he seemed to realize something.

"Did I forget to give my business card to you?" He asked, patting his pockets in quick succession.

"You did give it to me, sir."

"Oh," he stopped the search immediately. "I told you, it's very informative, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did," she sighed, resigned.

"Then, what are you asking?"

The apparent confusion on his face was a little unsettling. Somehow, it also felt a little like he was rating her intelligence. Keira took out the business card in question. Rereading it one more time. Also, deeming it nonsensical once again. The words printed there were glaringly the same. She blinked as though that would make the ink transform into normal words usually contained in a business card.

It didn't. Keira didn't misread it.

"There, see?" Nate pointed to the words on the bottom with his forefinger. "I'm your date for this Friday night."

Keira looked up at him again. Incredulous. Unlike Nate, who smiled brightly at her, showing a glimpse of his teeth and dimples appearing on his cheeks. Turning his persona into appearing more boyish, instead of the good-looking man in his early thirty or something.

"You mean to night." It was not a question.

"Yes. I will pick you up at seven. Please dress in whatever clothes you're comfortable in."

Keira gaped at his audacity and one-sided fantasy. "Who said anything about going on a date with you?"

Nate looked genuinely puzzled and hurt by that. "You don't want to?"

'Is he serious?' Keira grimaced and turned on her heel, quickly striding to the closed reference section of the library.

There were many things Keira Hawkins didn't like in life.

Slavery, as mentioned before, was written in bold capital letters in the Hate section of her Mind Library. Next on the list was a corrupt government. The world knew this nation was not immune to it. Then, somewhere between criminals and wealthy people were bullies.

Nobody likes bullies. Even a bully didn't like other bullies who could throw a quip back. Moreover, the victims. She was one. Both in elementary and high school.

Kindergarten kids were too innocent, too pure to know that a vivid birthmark on her face equals broken things. That the mere sight of it meant she should be bullied. In university, she got lucky. Aside from her unpopular major, her classmates were cool people with many quirks from mixed families. Either that or nerds who were too busy staring at books after books, doing reports and their own research to care about their appearances.

That being said, she hated bullies. Despite not acting like a typical bully in the elementary cafeteria or crowded high school hall, Nathaniel Wolfe dangerously acted like one.

She had been in this kind of situation before. A boy approached her, acting friendly for a week before asking for a date. Eager as any other teenager, she said yes even when anxiety hovered close. It was the most disastrous evening she had when the boy's friends crashed their date and slapped fifty bucks on the table. Going out with her was only a bet they all did out of the blue. The humiliation and sadness refused to leave her from the moment the boy said that her birthmark was disgusting.

From that moment on, she only found it suspicious and denied it immediately if the opposite sex asked her out. Not that it happened regularly. It was as rare as winning a lottery. Keira thought her landlord should know that before buying another one next month.

"Hey, I'm serious." Nate's deep voice resounded from behind her. He was definitely far too close, as she could feel his body heat on her back.

Keira jerked away, turning around to glare at him. However, she couldn't deny the seriousness on his face. As if he was being honest and genuinely asking her out on a date. Her face hardened. "Please stop joking around, sir. I can get in trouble for letting you here despite your fake business card and that highly suspicious man who vouched for you."

"But, I'm not," Nate took a step forward. "I like you."

She opted to ignore that. The disillusion of the sincerity Nate expertly displayed. But, a hand suddenly grabbed her wrist. Stopping her still between Romance and Satire aisles.

"You have to believe me because I really like you."

Gritting her teeth, she met his eyes and brought a hand to push her bangs away from the right side of her face. Revealed her imperfect face, the birthmark that felt like a curse in her teenage years, towards him.

Daring.

"What part of this do you like?" Keira snarled, hating herself while doing so.

"What's wrong with thinking that you look beautiful like this?" Nate stated, certain even as he placed a hand on her discolored cheek.