"For somebody insistent on hiding themselves from me," started the tone gruffly, slightly hoarse from not speaking for a while. "You seem to enjoy following me around."

Noah's disinterested stare lifted from the stack of paper before him, a pen in his hand and a small selection of books at his other side, looking quite comfortable.

Kaden paused. "Although stalking you is my recent, beloved pastime, I intended to read today."

"I didn't know you could read." came the sarcastic, flat response.

"And I didn't know you could write." Actually, he did, because Noah had told him so and Kaden couldn't have forgotten that fact—but that wasn't the point. "Yet here we are."

He sighed, turning around. He'd chosen the corner because it was the furthest away from others, away from preying eyes. And Kaden really did want to study up, in the case something happened during the exploration.

"Wait."

The studious sinner raised an eyebrow curiously. "Already begging for me back, Bellamy?"

Noah stared at him, unamused and pointed a finger towards his feet. "You're stepping on one of my papers."

"Oh."

Was it too late to dig a hole, bury Noah, and then run away to another country?

Kaden bent down, sliding his fingers carefully to smoothen out the wrinkles—not that paper could really be completely smoothed out. The effort was there, in the very least.

His eyes caught on some words, and suddenly he was simply standing there, unmoving, eyes flickering through line and line non-stop. Word after word, knitted together to form a lyrical sentence, that connected and wove together to form a paragraph.

It was like magic, in the most realistic sense.

For the first time, Kaden learned what it meant to be 'lost in words', as visuals painted across his mind to match the imagery represented in the writing.

It wasn't that Noah was the most wonderful writer he'd ever come across, or the most experience or well-learned. Nothing of the sort.

But there was a certain charm of the straightforward descriptions, slotted together with hints of subtle emotion, that spoke to Kaden.

He felt a little drunk on the emotions that weren't even his own, flipping over the paper to continue reading.

Noah watched the changing expressions on the other's handsome face—the parted lips and dazed eyes, warmed by the gentle hue of the old library—and lowered his raised hand that had been ready to take the page back.

If there were three things to dislike about Kaden Chauvet, one would have to be that he felt so genuinely for other's passions, that it was hard to push him away.

But it made the dragon ever more conflicted.

Which was the real him?

Noah watched in silence for several moments before calling out with a new softness to his voice,

"Do you like reading?"

Kaden snapped out of the scene, blinking in a haze. "No, no I don't read often. At least, what I read isn't like this. It's all non-fiction, things I read to learn."

He wasn't even thinking about keeping up a sarcastic farce as he walked over, looking down at the other sheets of paper like a hopeful animal, ears perked. "...of course, that isn't to say I hate reading. May I..."

"You can."

Noah considered reminding Kaden that his facade has dropped, lest the latter panic about it later and resort to his old teasings, and to perhaps regain his solitude. 

But he didn't. 

And he wasn't entirely sure why.

Kaden almost slid over, settling into the chair next to Noah as he picked up the papers. It was an entire story, half written out, so he slotted the page he picked up in accordance with the numbers—because yes, Noah numbered the pages in an organized manner. 

He lost himself in the moment, in between crinkled pages.

And Noah lost himself in watching Kaden read his passion.

It was exciting—set in modern times best described as Kaden's second life, carrying similar concepts of futuristic technology that didn't currently exist. It practically dripped in imagination, in strange, ridiculous ideas that somehow made sense.

A cursed pair of friends, an adventure through time and space as they, forcefully separated, searched for each other.

A foolish wizard from another world, a perverted detective from the past, and all sorts of characters whose unique personalities shone through. 

And it was funny, because it was so hard to figure people out in reality, while in books, characters had such depth to their personalities, exposed to a reader.

He let out a breath when he was finished reading, stuck on a cliffhanger. "I'm curious what happens next. Let me continue when you add another section."

Noah raised an eyebrow. "Did you like it?"

"Like it? I loved it." Then, he jolted upright and cleared his throat. "Well, I haven't read much to compare it to, but it's quite good. I'll be honest with that."

"Is that so?"

"Whatever you write, I'll read it."

Noah's calm, sharp gaze widened impossibly for such an expressionless man, and something snapped. Like a string that had been pulled taut. Kaden didn't know how to describe it, but he watched Noah process the words slowly.

"Even if it's terrible?"

The day had been long with his classes, arrogantly striding through the halls with tension lining his straight legs, pretending to be blind to the stares that dug at him. Kaden had passed Reed, too, watching the man settle in with the crowd naturally, a smile on his face.

And really, pretending to be somebody else was tiring.

Kaden didn't feel like lying anymore, today.

"Even if it's terrible." Then, after a beat, he added solemnly, "Though I would tell you that it's terrible when I finished. With an excessive amount of critique."

"I can attempt to tolerate your chattering."

"The correct answer is 'thank you'."

Noah stared down at the papers, shuffling it back into a neat pile. Slowly, words melting with the warm glow from above, he said, "This would be my first novel, when I'm completed."

"Really?" Kaden nodded—they were still young.

Hardly eighteen, yet to decide what they wanted to do with their lives. Well, other than the other circumstances he didn't want to think about right now.

"So promise me."

"Promise you what?"

"To be my first reader."

Noah wasn't entirely certain of why he said what he did, but considering that there was no taking back words (he didn't believe in regretting words spoken) he simply waited. 

Kaden blinked in surprise, suddenly recognizing how close the other person sat, and how his eyes weren't actually completely black—they were a dark, stormy grey vortex that reflected the light off the surroundings.

Strands of his black-white hair had been tucked behind to read, while the other half dangled loosely over his smooth forehead. Noah always had this way of looking at the world without expectation or judgement, walking on a different plane from all others, in his own reality. 

But right then, there was no mistaking the person percieved in that sharpened gaze.

Kaden couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. Here he was, with the man who'd end up hating him—his executioner.

Yet he smiled playfully.

"Sure. I promise you, I'll be your first reader."

And Noah's stone face melted under the soft hint of a small smile.