A FATED MEETING

The library, a place of wonders. Though many would dispute such a claim, no one could doubt the potential that a building filled with books - tomes of knowledge and history, had. This was the gate to a universe of stories and worlds, that one person could never possibly witness with his very own two eyes. The books sought to correct that. A problem remained however. Which book should I pick? One could never look at the cover, for it did not contribute to the story and the story was why people read books in the first place... or was that truly the case? A book symbolized intelligence and a clever simpleton had to do naught, but to hold it in his hands. On a bus. On a train. Peeking out of a handbag, never to be read.

However Christian Stuart was no such simpleton, or perhaps even if he was, his appearance did well to mask any such impression. Although he had entered with a grimace, a soaked umbrella held tightly in his hand, there was an air of intelligence about him. From the way he took a long thoughtful look around himself, to the way he walked. Slowly but surely, taking large steps - strides - with ease that suggested that his mind was on things far from the present. He simply refused to concentrate on the path he had taken, and instead looked absent, as his hands fumbled for an object in his right pocket.

Whilst Christian completely lost interest in the world around him, the fancy-looking phone held in his hand, had now become the center of his attention. The phone was afraid, as the sheer intensity in the young man's blue eyes reflected from the screen. Christian's fingers moved masterfully, crafting words at a fearful speed. What was so important?

The man looked lost and yet, moved with a purpose. Clad in fashionable clothes that spoke of a well-off background, his black pointy shoes left a slight brown mark on the floor of the library. Equally, small droplets found themselves steadily making way down his grey long coat, as rain still made its presence audible, booming on the large windows of the library, which looked out on to a gloomy, darkening world of a City, in the prime of its life. But Christian didn't spare a thought towards his Home town.

Instead, he was again, occupied with his phone. There had been a brief moment where he had looked up, pulled at his hair furiously, when another reflection revealed his curly chestnut locks. A fairly small nose, a strong jaw line and lips that seemed, as if having been closed for ever. Although he had betrayed a glimpse of an interest in his personal looks, the stranger remained a stranger to an observant eye. There was little to tell. A tall, good looking man. A concentrated individual, whose life revolved around that little piece of metal... it was ringing again.

ACT I

He was a tall, good looking man. A concentrated individual, whose life revolved around that little piece of metal... it was ringing again. And yet the sound of a human body shuffling, readjusting to some purpose, made the young man look up. He was curious, or perhaps vigilant, vigilance possibly being a part of his Job. The man prided himself with his observational skills... and he didn't like the caller anyway.

So what could Christian's eyes see when they looked up?

-----

Victorian-esque library. Dark expensive wood. Dust, covering the odd overlooked corner. Books: old, new, large, small. Some ancient, some read often. Others, left behind for long periods of time. There were chandeliers above him. Gold tint - cheap replicas. Produced a fairly dim light. The sounds of rain were audible. Dark outside; middle of the week, around 7 o'clock. People were at home, or still at work if unfortunate, scared away by the rain. Glass windows. Wooden frames. Probably double glazing, guessing by how hot it was inside. Little sign of modern objects. No radiators to be seen. A computer on a desk and a phone next to it. Then a woman, leaning towards him.

Curious woman. Eyes made bigger through the horn-rimmed glasses that she was wearing. Possible eye problems? Wanting to look clever (or fashionable)? If so, was she stupid? Or was her blonde hair a source of mistake for those who thought her to be stupid? Then again, librarians had to have an interest in books. Books were equal to knowledge, although it didn't determine the extent of her intelligence.

She was pretty, beautiful even, based on personal opinion. Slender nose; high cheek-bones. Use of make-up - pink lipstick - not over-exaggerated, symbol of interest in oneself. She smiled towards him, but her expression looked nervous. Shy then, but at the same time, quite sociable. She seemed to fiddle around with her cardigan - cardigan, a choice made on fashion, not on efficiency. It was raining today, and yet she wanted to look good, did she? Long blonde hair. Think princess. Not over one shoulder, which could seem seductive. A little. Quick, small sentences. Welcoming but soft voice. What did that say about her? Back to the idea of being nervous. She wanted to speak to him, but perhaps didn't know how... maybe she felt invisible, when younger. Parents? No friends? There was a slight joke in what she said. It was more friendly than funny. Suggestive? Doubt that. An ice-breaker more or less. Again, friendly. Sociable to some degree. Shy, for the rest part. Curious and intelligent.

-----

Christian smiled more to himself than to her, proud of the extent of his deduction. As his Boss had said, 'Seeing was different from Understanding'. Then again the Man above him had an intelligence far exceeding his own. Or perhaps it was experience, not that Christian dared to ask such a impolite question. Questions were bad for business. And his boss was an inpatient man, a busy man, with little time for answering childish assumptions. Bottom of the line was, that as his boss' private assistant, Christian had to be on his toes at every living moment... and yet, he felt slacking in that vigilance. Maybe it was the girl before him, that caused such an effect.

"Hi" he replied with a warm tone, a smile backing up the impression of warmth and friendliness. "I apologize profusely, for disturbing everyone" he added quickly, bowing theatrically, with a little chuckle escaping his lips. As he straightened up, his blue eyes met with her equally blue spheres, for only a split second perhaps. People liked to believe, that in that one moment, a thousand words were spoken... To him however, that was the perfect opportunity to see her pupils and how if at all, they dilated.