I had come to the University library that cool spring night to try and get some work done. It was generally quiet, not having the loud music and conversation common to the cliche coffee shop haunts of the ordinary writer. More importantly, there was a dedicated study area that contained many large tables with built in power sources and enough room to spread out the laptop, notebooks, note cards, books, and the various detritus of a research project that somehow accumulates with time. I had selected one such monstrous table, it easily could have sat eight, with two lamps firmly attached just off center of the table with power outlets to either side. I could only assume there must be a company somewhere that custom made such tables for board rooms and libraries, though I doubted somehow there were many such businesses. My table floated on the edge of an ocean of such monsters near a massive west facing window. I selected a chair so that I sat on the very edge of the sea of tables with naught but a few large cushioned chairs between me and the fair view of the campus. The old stone buildings cramped in close to one another due to the urban locale of the university like commuters on a busy subway, the only green spaces being a few trees and grass on either side of the walkways which connected the structures like concrete rails.
Shortly after I had arrived and arranged my clutter just as I desired it this day, he took up a plush chair nearer the large bank of windows but still a comfortable distance from me. We made brief eye contact and he gave an apologetic gesture by way of congenial smile as he settled into the cushions. He appeared to be about my height, just about six foot, and athletically built. His hair looked unseasonably short but he must have had a beanie of some sort along with the coat he carried under one arm. He had on a white long sleeve shirt with some team logo or some such I can't remember, gray sweat pants, and white tennis shoes. I initially took all this in during the brief moment of eye contact and thought nothing of it.
I paid no mind to him initially, yet as my thoughts would occasionally wander or I required a short break, I found myself staring at him. I disinterestedly studied the sharp angle of his jaw, his shoulders, the way he was slouched low in the chair with both feet planted on the floor, as I would study any other person in public; a cultivated writer's habit to observe people like characters to be replicated for my work. He caught me staring at him more than once, and I quickly darted my eyes back to my laptop. It was hard not to stare though. He had sat directly within my eye line and was, as far as I knew, the only other student in the library at so late an hour. On the pretense of a cigarette break I made a quick circuit of the library interior and found that he was indeed the only other patron. Studying for a test, I assumed while I smoked quickly as it was a rather cold night and I had only brought along a sweater.
Once I had returned to my seat, try as I might, I couldn't return to my work. My thoughts followed my eyes always back to him while he quietly read and generally ignored my existence. Something about him bothered me. In a four story library, at nearly one in the morning, when he could have chosen any seat why had he chosen the one on the highest floor directly in sight of the only other person? Certainly, he had come here as I had for the solitude. Then again, perhaps he wanted the silent company. I did not. He had already proven a distraction. I made to pack my things when he cleared his throat quietly and shifted in his seat. It drew my attention, surely enough, as he had probably intended. I wouldn't have thought anything of it except that he shot me a quick glance before returning to his book.
