“Are you coming?” he asked. His lips pursed into a tight line when he noticed the double meaning.
She pushed up her glasses that had since slipped down her nose. “An opportunity to judge your reading tastes? Of course, I’ll go.”
He grunted, but led her along. He purposefully kept his distance from her, his long strides making it difficult for her to keep up. The way to his room was confusing, and they didn’t pass anything that looked familiar to her. There were so many right turns at one point, she definitely thought that he was toying with her and taking her in circles.
Then, they reached a long hallway. There were no colored lights like the student’s halls had. In fact, beside the one light in the far distance Kamine could barely make out, the hall was dark. A shiver sliced through her as almost complete darkness blanketed them.
A hand touched her shoulder, and Kamine squeaked.
“It’s just me,” Professor Grimot said, flatly.
“Didn’t anyone tell you to not sneak up on people.”
“I wouldn’t call it sneaking when we’re the only two in the hallway, and you know I’m here with you.”
“You never know,” she shot back. “There could be a ghost here with us.”
He scoffed, “I promise there are no ghosts here. I scared them away.”
“How comforting.”
She was grateful that at least they were still comfortable enough with each other to make light-hearted jabs.
“And what about the monster?” She crossed her arms, curious to see how he would respond.
His face turned serious, his jaw tense. “The monster won’t be bothering us.”
She expected a mean jibe back at her for believing in such tales, but he only looked sincere. Kamine didn’t question him further, even though his reaction told her there was more to that response than he was letting on. They continued their way over, the light still so far away. Perhaps the light was an illusion, perhaps they would move forward forever and never reach it.
“Why do you get such a private room?”
He tightened his hands on her shoulder. “Everyone's room here is relatively private.”
“I have to share with a roommate.”
He sucked in a breath. “Right. I hated that.”
She hummed. “I actually like it. Maybe that’s because Zoya knits me blankets to help keep me warm.”
“You wouldn’t believe that she was so warm if you saw her in a classroom. Her refined skills mean that she can weave a storm of small rocks around a person with such precision that she can land one in someone’s mouth, if she tries hard enough.”
Kamine blinked, so unused to having such a civil conversation with him, much less one where he was praising anyone. It was refreshing. It made that fluttering feeling in her stomach grow.
He pushed open the door to his room, and Kamine gasped at the sight before her. The walls were lined with shelves and shelves of books. An endless array of colors and covers. Kamine stepped inside, and trailed her finger down one of the worn spines.
“History?” she asked.
Professor Grimot shrugged. “I like nonfiction.”
“Not me,” she said, her voice shaking with a storm of excitement. “I have always found comfort in fiction. If my own powers didn’t want to work, then at least I could read about fictional characters whose powers did. It almost felt safer than actually trying to get my magic to come out. Less dangerous.”
She didn’t know why she offered that information to him. Maybe it was because he had brought her here, around his prized possessions, ones that revealed a lot about his soul. That’s what books could do. They dug deep into the innermost part of someone, and pulled out pieces of them that they didn’t know existed. Showing Kamine his collection was a vulnerable thing, and she didn’t take that lightly.
When she turned around, his hands were in his pockets as he stared at her. “What?”
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
She wanted to push, but she left it at that. There would be other occasions to hound him for his secrets.
