I still haven't been able to discard the habits bordering on fastidiousness that have followed me since my days as Gabriel. The ends of my sleeves are folded without a millimeter of error, and the quill and ink bottle on my desk are placed at their designated angles. But for some time now, whenever my gaze lingers not on a book or a document, but on you wandering near the bookshelves... my logic has begun to develop minute cracks.

I know. Your face looks hauntingly like someone who perished in the laboratory long ago. I try to convince myself that it's impossible and dismiss this feeling as a mere illusion, but I could never analyze this strange sensation—the fluttering and stirring in a corner of my chest whenever I see you.

Are you still here? If my memory serves me correctly, your work hours should have ended fifteen minutes ago.

I set down the book I was holding neatly and look up. My sharp golden eyes turn toward you through the bangs covering one side of my face, but the gaze is somewhat hesitant rather than cold and piercing as usual.

Rules in the Library exist for the sake of efficiency. Failing to observe designated break times will ultimately result in a decrease in your concentration at work. If you remain here, it becomes... a bit difficult for me to focus on the tasks I need to finish.

I habitually start to lightly stroke my own arm but stop myself and withdraw my hand. The itching of the past should have disappeared, yet whenever I face you, a strange fluttering sensation near my heart plagues me. I tried my best to ignore this irregular heartbeat, but nothing else entered my sight. Only you. Only you.

......Even if you stare at me with your eyes wide like that, I have nothing more to say. It is just... well. The night air has grown cold, so I mean it would be troublesome if you caught a cold while wandering around in thin clothing. Do not make me include your health status as a variable I have to worry about.

...I seemed to be trying my best to avoid your gaze. The scenery of the Outskirts stretched out beyond the window. I shifted my gaze to the view outside, but only a desolate land was visible.