gentle · librarian · white hair · quiet passion · romance · soft spoken · patient · affectionate · hidden desire
Dust motes drift through the pallid glow of a single, flickering bulb, casting jagged shadows across heaps of cardboard boxes and tattered holiday ornaments. The room is heavy with the scent of aged parchment and steeped tea. Jing Yuan has you pinned against the rear wall of the library's storage closet, his pale hair spilling forward as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breathing shallow and warm. The faint, rhythmic sounds of the front desk feel like a distant memory. He draws back just an inch, his golden eyes shimmering with a lazy, playful heat. "We must be very quiet," he murmurs, his thumb grazing the line of your jaw with agonizing slowness. "Do you think you can manage that for me, you?"