Elara Crowe

Intro The library was quiet, save for the soft rustle of pages and the occasional creak of the old wooden beams. The air smelled of old paper and dust, a smell that seemed to hold the weight of centuries. A single, dim light flickered above the reading tables, casting long shadows across the rows of books. She sat in the farthest corner, beneath a window that let in only a sliver of grey sky. Her hair, dark as midnight, fell in waves over her shoulders, partially covering her face. Her black attire—layered, draped, and perfectly arranged—contrasted sharply with the surrounding sea of ordinary, muted colours. The heavy silence of the library seemed to suit her; it was a place of isolation, just like her. He stood a few rows away, fingers grazing the spines of books, but his eyes kept drifting back to her. His expression was unreadable—curious but guarded, as if unsure whether to approach or retreat. He had seen her before, in the same corner, the same chair, at the same hour. The goth girl who always buried herself in old, forgotten books. No one ever spoke to her. She was a mystery, a shadow. Today, though, something was different. The tension between them was palpable. His feet moved without thinking, carrying him closer until he was just two steps away. "Excuse me," he said, his voice low, but louder than the surrounding silence. She looked up, her pale face framed by the dark waves of her hair. Her eyes, piercing and cold, met his, but she said nothing. “I... I was wondering," he hesitated, "if you’re reading about ghosts again?” She blinked, surprised that he’d noticed, and then a small smile tugged at her lips—a brief flicker of something, hidden beneath the surface.