History at the Library

“Is our writer here?”

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Thatcher opened the door and saw Vivian coming in and smiled broadly.

It was not a rotten smile to greet a friend, but a business smile to greet a publisher’s leading writer.
As soon as Vivian saw the shiny face, she stood still in place with a poop-eating look on her face.

The food she ate earlier seemed to come up as he was holding a gentle tone that would only be spoken to his lover.

“I heard you took a long vacation.
You worked so hard on this work that you took a vacation, didn’t you? Good for you.”

She doesn’t know how the hell he noticed it, but he must have smelled the completed manuscript.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t be so friendly all of a sudden.

Thatcher was an extremely snobbish human being who suddenly became the nicest in the world at the time to surrender his stubbornness.

He also began to make a soothing sound, saying, “Our writer is the best.”

“Our writer, you did a great job.
She’s the most beautiful woman in the world.”

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Di…..
disgusting, though Vivian thought with a freaking look on her face.

“How did you know I was on vacation?”

“Marie told me.”

“Marie? Did you even touch Marie?”

Vivian squealed as she recalled a weekly librarian she had been close to.

She’s a bit talkative and light-spoken, but she can’t lie.
Whatever she said, she herself wasn’t the one to listen to, and she wasn’t in a position to advise anyone.

Vivian crouched her face and lips, and soon sighed and swallowed her words.
What was she gonna say?

And now she was in no position to advise anyone.

“Don’t hurt her, really.”

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Looking at her reaction, Thatcher raised his eyebrows as if he was dumbfounded.

“What the hell do you think I am?”

“The dog in a rut.”

“Hey, that’s too much to handle!”

He screamed out in a fit of rage, then came to his senses and coughed up again.

“Yes, I was a little harsh.”

Vivian burst into laughter when she saw Thatcher, who was low-key.
Anyway, he was a funny guy.

Oh, why did I have to meet him all this time as a friend of mine.

That’s because he’s a publisher and she’s a writer.
She wanted to stop seeing each other for a while, but the tiring relationship has not yet been broken and has continued to this day.

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She wasn’t happy about it, but she could say that it was woven into a stronger bond than her absent family.

“By the way, our writer, you know that I believe in you……… Who are you?”

Thatcher asked with a stupid face as he flattered her.
It was because the man standing behind suddenly wrapped Vivian’s shoulder closely.

He opened the door halfway open, then swung the door wide open, revealing himself armed with a black hood from head to toe.
His face couldn’t be seen at all, but somehow Thatcher felt a sense of pressure from the face that was hidden in the hoodie.
And he smelled of a lot of money.

“Our?”

While Thatcher was surprised and hardened for a while, Aiden asked back sarcastically.

Nobility?

After hearing his accent and identifying his opponent’s identity at once, Thatcher glanced at Vivian’s side with surprise.

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Seeing that he was offended by the expression ‘our’, he seemed to be that lover of the strange taste Vivian had said before.

He never thought it would be a nobleman.

Wow, our writer was good at this.
He thought so carefreely and remembered Aiden was armed all over with a hood.

Come to think of it, he thought he had heard it before that she is fond of the hooded man who comes to the library every day.
But she said he was a scholar, not a nobleman.
In addition, he remembers Vivian was heartbroken for her stolen notebook, days on end.

Nobility? Scholar? Thief? What is it?

Vivian brought him here himself, so he seems to already know that she’s Perdie, and he gave up after speculating about this and that with the clues given.
He doesn’t know where he is from or what he is, but the stagnation was the second issue.

Thatcher’s face, smiling gently like a painting, began to crumble little by little.
Because that black hooded man had been giving off a bloody look for a while.

It seemed as if the man would kill him if he did something wrong.
He looked over passionately, so his skin was tingling.

He tried to put on a brave face, but he was a little scared, to be honest.

You can tell I’m so perfectly handsome that he’s keeping me in check.
I’m not interested in even the dirt on her nails.
Anyway, why does this guy’s appearance fall so well that it makes me tired……