Z
Zealous. He could be very zealous if he wanted to be. Epecially when he found something and poured himself over it, giving at all of his attention. So much, even, that he forgot to eat, or sleep. I walked to the library, almost knowing what I would find. I opened the door, and there he was, fast asleep at the desk, head pillowed by the large book. I knew then that I was lost, without a doubt. I loved the man like no other, with all his odd quirks.
A/N: The End!