[A/N: Okay. So I've been...busy. Writing things I'm /not/ going to post...probably. Don't try persuading me otherwise; it's not going to work. So too bad. Anyways...the story idea popped into my head while I was watching ice skating (O.o ...it was kinda bad. T_T No one could pull of their first jump well...and some changed it froma triple to a single -_-)...and then I got the /whole/ idea from my bewuved fwiend Angelina 3...so have fun with this. No doubt it's cliched...but what's a bit of romance without sappy cliche? I was thinking about taking out the first paragraph (cuz it doesn't really seem to fit so well with the story)...but its freaking 1:30 in the morning...and I'm TIRED. -_-

anyways...so i love this website...Seventh Sanctum or sumthing...yeah. I got Evangeline's name from there. (and have officially fallen in love with the name xDD)

and Trent's name...i have no idea where the freak i got that. I wanted his name to be Trent...but then the last name just sort of popped in my head. and I have a bad feeling Trent Anderson is someone I actually know (and I probably wouldn't like him)...but I couldn't figure it out...so too bad. this Trent Anderson is pro. btw...if u guys want a pic of something similar to what i imagined him (or at least, they have the same hair right)...imagine this guy kinda younger...with (or without...ur pick) the mini-stubble thingy... look up Trent Ford on google images and its the picture of him with a scarf, leaning against a wall, while its snowing. 3 (and no...i did not name the character Trent because this guy's name is Trent. its PURE COINCIDENCE.)

and if anyone was wondering why all the 'Teddy's' are capitalized...its an inside joke with my friend Angelina up there. You really don't want to know xP

and sooooooooo...on to the story! (its a oneshot, btw).]


Silence. Was there ever a greater thing? I reveled in it, relaxing in its calming entirety. It enveloped the air around me, encasing me in its warm embrace; never ending, never dissipating. It was the one place I could feel safe, away from the callous noises of the rest of the world. Within Silence was the one place I could relax and think. It was the one place I could love. So it was obvious that I'd volunteer in the library.

Now, the library. The place that took up the rest of my life. I loved the library. So many books to see and read...there was just this relaxing aura to it. It was always quiet, and I always got this wonderful feeling, walking through the shelves, like there were so many worlds just waiting for me to travel to and discover. I spent most of my time there, from right after school to long after it got dark, and many times even before school, if I could bring myself to wake up in time. Usually, the librarians had me shelving books -goodness knows there was enough of that to be done. Not many people came into the library, but for some odd reason, there was always a surplus of books to shelve. I -being the bookworm that I am, was probably one of the main reasons for that. There was this thing about shelving books. I always seemed to end up doing it, despite other matters that needed attending to. I didn't mind though; it was a mindless job, in a way, leaving me time to wonder about all the things in the world. A lot of the times, I ended up reading the books rather than shelving them. Reading books, I looked up a lot, just to stretch my eyes a bit. And sometimes there would be something interesting to look at as well. More than once, there was something especially eye-catching; something I couldn't take my eyes off -or rather someone. More than once, I found myself looking at him, wondering. Far more than once.

It was a warm summer's day, just after the start of the school year. Students were playing sports outside, or hanging around with their friends. I loved days like that; less people in the library. Smiling slightly, I turned back to the shelving cart; I only had one more book to go. Placing it reverently on the shelf, I wheeled the cart back to the front desk, picking up a book on my way. That was the other nice thing about volunteering at the library; more often than not, the librarians wouldn't care if you didn't do much work, as long as all the books were shelved. Besides...the chairs at the front desk were comfy.

I was halfway through the book, leafing ahead a few pages because I couldn't stand the suspense, when I heard someone clearing their throat. Embarrassedly, I put the book down and looked up, smiling politely at the person.

"May I help you, sir?" He was standing just in front of the desk, having picked up a book that had been on the counter, and reading the summary. I couldn't see his face, but he didn't seem like the type that would go to the library on such a 'nice' day. His hair was a sort of burnt sienna color, falling messily over his face, and he had slightly tan-white skin with a sort of boyish look to him. Tall -taller than me, at least, from what I could tell- and slim, he had semi-broad shoulders and wasn't chubby in the least. I had no idea who he was, but I wondered why he was in the library, of all places. Shaking my head, I repeated myself.

"May I help you?" He looked up and smiled, making me shiver.

"I just needed to check out, thanks," he replied, handing me his card. I nodded and took it, placing it under the scanner before scanning his book, in turn. Stamping the due date and running it across the metal plate, I handed it back to him.

"Due back the seventeenth. Have a good day," I told him customarily.

"Thanks," he replied, smiling again, before striding out the doors. Shivers ran down my back again. I looked back at the screen of the computer, curious to see who he was.

'Trent Anderson,' I repeated silently to myself. Definitely not the type of guy to be in a library. It was probably a school project. Shaking my head, I turned back to my book.

It wasn't the last I saw of him. He came in periodically, always staying and reading for a while before checking out. It baffled me as to why someone like him might even look at a library, but I put it down to some sort of 'library' phase he must've been going through -though goodness knew what a 'library' phase was. Nevertheless, he always seemed to be engrossed in whatever he was reading. I soon recalculated my opinion of him -I, of all people, should have known better than to judge a book by his cover. Occasionally, I would find myself looking up from my book to stare at him.

It was during one of these times when the librarian, so seldom seen, and yet seeming to come at all the right moments, came out of her office and asked me to shelve some books that had just come in. I put my book down and stood up to do as she said, still pink from getting caught staring at Trent. Sighing at the amass of books that seemed to have suddenly appeared out of nowhere, I pushed the cart towards the fiction section.

I was only about halfway through when he got up and started towards the same section, having finished with his previous book. I quickly turned around, busying myself with the books when I heard him coming towards the same aisle. Switching the order of my usual shelving, I strode to the adjacent aisle. Watching him out of the corner of my eye, I continued putting books on the shelves, reddening at the thought of my looking at him. I was soon engrossed in a book when I heard his voice behind me.

"Um...excuse me?" It rang in my ears and repeated in my head. I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again, placing the book I was holding in its rightful place, and turning around. But, as usual, nothing ever turned out non-embarrassing for me. My jacket caught on the corner of the cart, causing me to lose my footing and fall backwards. I braced myself for the impact, covering my head with my arms to avoid a concussion with a bookcase, but was instead caught by a pair of arms...which, in turn, gave away. We both tumbled to the floor, sending books up in a flurry. (A/N: -if heavy books can even create a flurry. O_o)

I sat up, rubbing my back around the place it had fallen on the corner of a book. Quickly realizing I was on top of him, I jumped off Trent, only to fall on another book in the same place as the last. I winced as I felt my skin break open from the impact, biting my lip to keep from crying out. All too suddenly, Trent sat up rubbing his back, looking like a lost Teddy bear who couldn't find his honey. His shook his head, ruffling his hair, and looked at me with an apologetic face.

"I'm so sorry," I burst out, trying to pick up some of the books strewn over the floor. He copied the motion, adding his own input.

"No, it's my fault. I should've caught you...I just didn't expect the weight." I looked at him, unsure of his meaning. "No! I'm not saying you're heavy! You're light -really light! I just didn't expect any weight...I mean...ugh. I just...I didn't brace myself for the impact. I'm terrible with words..." He quickly supplied in response to my look.

"And yet you read so many books," I muttered under my breath. He glanced at me, indicating he'd heard, but said nothing. We picked up the rest of the books, and he helped shelve the remaining few before pushing the cart back to the front desk.

Straightening up, he looked at me. I tilted my head in questioning. Any moment now, he would laugh at me for being a book worm and leave to go and make fun of me with his friends. It had happened before. But he said quite the contrary. Instead, he took a deep breath before asking,

"Do you...want to come and have coffee with me? I know this nice place, and it's cozy, and warm, and has some really great drinks, and it's a nice place just to hang out, and it's not far from here..."

I smiled, barely holding back laughter. He was rambling. Just the thought of anyone being nervous while talking to me was hilarious. He gave me an anxious look, reminding me of a starving puppy who had food in front of him but had to be spoon-fed. I laughed this time, and nodded, putting him out of his misery. His face automatically brightened, and I wondered whether his moods always changed that fast.

Bidding the librarian goodbye, I grabbed my scarf and left the library, following him.

"It's just this way," he assured me, adding that it wasn't very far. I nodded. I didn't mind the walk -it was snowing, and just windy and cloudy enough to be my favorite type of day. The weather seemed to suit Trent as well; he wore only a patterned scarf and brown sweater, but didn't look cold at all. It didn't hurt his looks either, I noted blushingly. His hair was lightly windswept, and the snow against his tan skin made him look all the better. Smiling as a gust of wind blew snowflakes in my face, I followed him down the road for a couple of blocks until he turned into a small café tucked in between a store full of Teddy bears and an ice cream parlor. It was a cozy little shop with couches, some small tables, and some quiet music in the back. I nodded at him in approval and followed him in. Ordering a small vanilla and caramel frappuccino, I sat down on on end of a table by the window, he on the other. Sipping his drink, he commented,

"So what's your name? You seem to know mine..." I blushed and explained,

"The computer screen; when you check out, your name pops up." He nodded in understanding. The conversation soon progressed as to why I worked in the library, of all places, and then to books, and then to school, and weather, and ice cream, and all manners of talk, until I realized it was getting dark.

"I'd better go," I told him, sorry to have to leave. He nodded, commenting on the time. I chucked our empty cups in the trash and we walked out together. I was crossing the street when he remembered.

"I never caught your name!" he called. I smiled apologetically and called back,

"Evangeline!" I barely made out his smile as his whispered it back to himself, before turning around and heading home.

It wasn't the last time we went to the café, either. He continued to come to the library, but he started helping a bit and then afterwards, we'd go for a drink, or some ice cream. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who thought that ice cream was one of the best things to eat during the winter. Needless to say, we soon became friends.

I don't know exactly when I did -I didn't know even then, but I started falling in love with him. Whether it was because he rambled when he got nervous -and I mean rambled a lot, or whether it was because he made me laugh, or whether it was something entirely different, I started falling for him. I knew I shouldn't, I knew it would never come to anything; he'd never like me back, but I couldn't help it. He was just...incredible. I loved everything about him, from his strange quirks, to his inability to wake up in the mornings. And it was hopeless. Because he'd never love me back.

It was his birthday, the 15th of December, almost a year after we'd first gone to the café, and we'd decided to celebrate in the customary setting -the café, of course. (A/N: for all you nitwits who can't figure out what the customary setting is, rofl.) I'd bought him an ice cream earlier that day, but we felt like spending the evening drinking coffee -or a crème frappuccino, in my case. We'd been laughing about some joke or other -something about the Teddy shop next door, when he suddenly got this serious look on his face. Unable to contain my curiosity, I asked,

"What are you thinking?" He frowned and replied,

"You know, curiosity killed the cat, Evangeline."

"And satisfaction brought it back, Trent," I shot back slyly. He bit his lip, obviously thinking, and then grabbed my hand, explaining,

"You know when we met? At the library? Just when school started last year?" I nodded. "Well...I never really was a library person."

"I knew it! I knew you weren't usually in the library! You didn't seem like the type..." I replied, happy my ever-present question had finally been answered. He gently massaged my hand, obviously nervous.

"Well, at least, not a library person. I like it...borderline love it. But anyways, I loved books...just not the libraries," he continued.

"Then what made you come to the library so much?" I asked, confused. He looked at me, amused, and laughed quietly. "What?! What's so funny? Why did you come to the library if you didn't like it?"

"Do you really have no idea?" he asked quietly, still laughing. I frowned. The suspense was killing me.

"Why? You know I suck at guessing," I reminded him, sobering up a bit. I had a feeling this wasn't the same sort of light small talk that we usually indulged in. He continued massaging my hand, staring at it and turning it over and over. I looked at him pointedly. He sighed and said,

"You."

I blinked. And blinked again. Actually, I'm not sure how many times I blinked, but it was a lot. Looking at my blank face, he laughed.

"You, Evangeline,You! You were always there -I could always see you through the window. And whenever I went to drop off my books, you were there, shelving, or reading, or writing, or something! You were always there! And I wondered 'how could anyone spend so much time in a library?' And I saw you, and the more I saw you, the more curious I got. Who were you, and what was your name? Why did you enjoy shelving books so much? Why was it that the more I saw you, the harder it was to look away?! And you were always there. So I went.

"And I found out so much -about you...about myself even more so. I wanted to be there for you. I wanted to do so many things -to talk to you, to hug you, to make you laugh, to catch you, to hold you..."I stared at him, numb. "...To kiss you," he added quietly, leaning in. I looked up to meet his eyes, seeing the sincerity and desperation staring back at me. He leaned in a little farther, closing the back between us.

It was simple, and sweet, and beautiful. It was strong, and calm, and desperate, and loving, all at the same time. It was everything a first kiss should be. And it was with the only person I'd ever want to have it with.

He leaned back, gasping for breath.

"And so I want to know now: do you even like me -even a little?! Or have I ruined any chance for even friendship I ever had with someone so...so incredible as you?" he asked, despondently searching for the answer in my eyes.

I couldn't say anything. My voice was gone. I was frozen to my seat. And no matter how much I wanted to tell him I loved him, I couldn't open my mouth. And as I saw the hope slide slowly off his face, I felt my heart breaking because I was unable to speak. And as he let go of my hand, letting it lie limply on the table, I could do nothing to get him back. And as he slid off his chair, picking up his patterned scarf, I could do nothing. My entire body was frozen. And as he strode out the door, whispering "Sorry" in my ear, I could say nothing -nothing to stop him from leaving me forever.

And it was only when he was crossing the street when I could move again. I wasted no time. Grabbing my scarf, I ran after him.

"Trent!" I called. It was snowing, the flakes cooling my cheeks and calming my erratic breathing down enough to say what I needed to say. "Wait!" He turned around, now on the other side of the empty road. I ran across, smashing into him and letting him hold me. "Wait," I whispered. He leaned back from the embrace, gazing at me silently, measuring me. He silently pulled me back towards him.

"I think I love you," I whispered into his chest.

"Thank you," he breathed.

And we stood there, reveling in each other's warmth and embrace, in the Silence on that snowy winter's evening. Because though there might be so many more evenings, and so many more times, and maybe even so many more people, this would never happen more than once.