"That book again?"
"Yes, Ian, this book again. Why don't you come read with me?" Amy smiled up at the handsome boy in the doorway. "The fire's really nice."
Ian paused. Seating himself directly upon a floor was not something he was in the habit of doing, but then again, chances like this didn't present themselves often, either. He sat down close to Amy, leaning so that their shoulders were touching. The better to see the pages, of course.
A/N: This was inspired by one of those "Imagine your otp" prompts floating around tumblr. So not only are the characters of this super-short drabble not mine, the idea isn't, either.
Quote of the Day: "I have always imagined that paradise will be a kind of library." - Jorge Luis Borges