"... Are you laughing at me?"

"Not at you," said Will, grinning, "more because of you. I've never seen anyone get so excited over books before."

Will couldn't help but think back to that first day, when he'd shown Tessa, the Great Library. It had been on his mind a great deal lately. As he walked into the room, the shelves crammed with rows upon rows of heavy books, he had never expected that in that moment he would fall in love with the strange girl trailing behind him.

She was pretty from certain angles, all big grey eyes and soft brown hair. She had glanced around the room, her eyes widening. Tessa was silent for a moment, then her face lit up with such joy and such wonder, that Will knew he stood no chance. Her eyes grew bright and her rose-petal coloured lips parted slightly as she let out a soft gasp.

In that moment, she was beautiful and in that moment, he fell in love.

The library had always been his favourite place at the Institute. It was here that Will could sink into good story and leave his life behind for just a few hours. He could be anyone that he wanted. It was a welcome respite from the sham that was his life. Here, he did not have to act the unfeeling bastard, pushing away anyone and everyone who could ever love him. Only in the world of words could Will be free.

Nobody understood Will's love for books, his fascination with the beauty of a well-crafted sentence. Not even Jem, who understood far more about him, than Will had ever wanted him to.

But now, he recognized the same love painted all over Tessa's face.

And he felt it. That sizzling, searing connection that his father had told him about when he was a little boy, listening to stories about how his mother and father had met. He couldn't stop it. The need was too strong. All he wanted to do was bury his fingers in her hair, whisper poetry against her hot mouth and drown in those serious grey eyes.

In that moment, his heart decided that Tessa would be his, even as his mind told him that it was impossible.

He tried to push her out of his mind, but it wasn't as easy as he had hoped. He tried to avoid her, but he could hardly stay away. He tried to be cruel to her, but it was slowly killing him.

And the stupid books weren't helping either.

He had thought that they could at least talk about books. What could be a safer subject? What conversation could be more civil?

But every time they talked, about a book, a character or a line of verse, Tessa revealed more and more of herself to him. And he was falling deeper and deeper in love with her.

Sometimes, bits of poetry would flow from his tongue, before he had a chance to stop them. She made him feel to comfortable, too like himself and in these unguarded moments her grey eyes would soften as she looked up at him.

Her every smile inflicted a fresh wound upon his soul; not a fatal wound but a shallow one that would ache and blaze with fire. Because he knew that he could never have her, and that the softness in her eyes was far too close to love.

She needed to hate him, and he could make it happen, but something in him rebelled against the idea. His cruelty and the look on her face as he destroyed her, sickened him. He couldn't help himself. Afterwards he would let her see the real him, however briefly, because he couldn't bear the thought of Tessa's hatred. He was sure it would destroy what was left of him.

Just enough arrogance, selfishness and cruelty to stop her from loving him, but not enough to make her despise him. It was a precarious balance, one he couldn't afford to upset.

He loved her. And it all started with a book.