As a general rule, Sherlock avoided his university's library. Normally, he would have appreciated the quiet, solitary environment that the library promised, but ever since Sebastian Wilkes had started working at the help desk up front, Sherlock found the library much less appealing. Wilkes had a habit of treating him like a circus act, and Sherlock had better things to do than to deal with that. Besides, ever since his roommate had moved out at the start of the term, he could get quiet solitude in his own room without the discomfort of running into anyone else.
There was a book he needed, however, and it seemed to only be available at the library. Sherlock couldn't understand how this text had managed to escape being offered online, but he had searched thoroughly enough to know that that was the case. So, with great displeasure, he made his way into the library, head down in an attempt to discourage anyone from pursing a conversation with him.
As expected, Seb Wilkes didn't take the hint. "Hey, look who it is," he announced to no one in particular as Sherlock walked by the front desk.
"I've got to get a book," Sherlock told him, not making eye contact. He continued walking.
"Oh, don't be like that," Seb called after him. "Come on, you've got to at least do your little trick for me."
Sherlock grimaced. It was a talent, a skill, not a trick. "I hardly have time right now." It was a lie, of course, but he couldn't be bothered to put up with Seb at the moment. Before the man could get a reply out, Sherlock made his way behind a tall shelf, putting the front desk out of sight.
Talbot, he reminded himself. He was looking for a book on biochemistry by Maureen Talbot. He scanned the books in front of him, not entirely sure where he should be looking. He had long since deleted knowledge of a library's organisational system to make room for more interesting data. As it was, it took him eighteen minutes to locate the book he needed, which was an embarrassingly long amount of time for someone who prided himself on being clever.
Sherlock snatched the book from off its shelf and began making his way back toward the check-out desk, passing through a cluster of small tables to do so.
That was when it happened.
Sherlock spotted him from across the room. A lone figure sitting at one of the two-person tables at the library's centre. Hair turned golden in the light from the windows, dark eyes of an indeterminate colour, fit torso clad in a rugby jacket. Sherlock bit his lip. The man looked to be about three years older, putting him at twenty-three years of age. The books he had scattered about the table indicated that he was studying medicine. There was no confusion or stress in his expression, no tightness around the eyes or mouth, so it was clear that he understood the material enough to ensure that his grade was not in danger. Clothes were well-worn but generic enough to not be out of style yet. Books were bought used, obviously. Very used, judging by the wear of the covers. Not well-off, then; on scholarship, most likely. He was captain of the university's rugby team, according to the large white 'C' that had been embroidered on the sleeve of his jacket. Sherlock suddenly sorely regretted never attending rugby matches, though that had as much to do with the fact he hadn't known the school had a rugby team as it had to do with his general disinterest in sports.
He's perfect, Sherlock's mind supplied before he immediately dismissed the thought. This stranger was interesting, but that was all Sherlock could conclude without further study.
Having paused to stare for a bit longer than was socially acceptable, Sherlock forced himself to snap out of it. He sat with his book at a table nearby, deciding to stick around for a bit. It wasn't as if he had anything else on for the rest of the day. Besides, he told himself, it was probably easier to just get the information he needed from the book right then and there rather than having to check to book out and return it later.
He glanced up over the edge of his book, taking in his surroundings. And if his eyes happened to land on a certain stranger, well, that was just a happy coincidence.
The library, Sherlock decided, wasn't a bad place after all.
Hey there! Thank you so much for reading this, and please leave a comment if you have any feedback to give! The next chapter will be posted soon, and from then on a new one should be posted every few days. This story is already complete; I just have to go back and edit each chapter before I upload it.