Her final year of college life was a mess. She worried about her attendance and the tea from the university canteen. Priya took the metro every evening to a bookstore, 'Pages & More', on weekends in the mornings.

Her job was to stack the new books, handle bills and sometimes suggest books to customers who looked lost. Her clothes always smelled of paper.

When she picked up books from the floor, some guys stared at her. One night, a man in his forties with a gold chain around his neck asked for a " recommendation".

Then he said he would pay extra if she brought the book to his car. She rang up the bill and said quickly that the shop would close in ten minutes. She didn't like the person who commanded his money.

She thought that there would be men who wouldn't look at her like she was between their main course of the meal. She hoped there were men who would treat her with respect.

---

On a humid afternoon, she saw a folded paper on her desk.

When she unfolded, she read.

'You see things that people don't, things I want to see things like. — Rohan'

She turned to see Rohan. He was seated two rows back with a boyish smile as though he'd discovered something. She had not been able to recharge her social battery in several months, so she nodded.

He took her out to a restaurant on Sunday afternoon. They ordered their favourite food. He spoke about his internship at a start-up, how he was stressed and how girls like her helped to make it better. Whenever she grabbed water, his eyes always caught sight of her neckline. She smiled at him and ate slowly. When he asked about the park after the meal, she told him she had completed her assignments, as she had her submission deadline tomorrow.

She lay in her bed in the hostel and heard the fan creak. After that, Rohan didn't pass any further notes. She didn't like to ask him why he didn't speak to her.

---

A month later, one Thursday, a tall guy who wore a charcoal kurta and jeans came in to look at books on Indian architecture. He had a few grey hairs in his beard, but his eyes were as placid as those of people who have seen many of nature's surprises. He was looking around for 20 minutes, then came to her counter with three heavy hardcovers.

Priya scanned them. "Cash or UPI?"

He said, "UPI," and read her name tag.

"Thank you, Priya." A small pause.

She looked at him.

"You handled the books with care."

She felt her ears grow warm. Most people never noticed how she kept the books on the counter. His name was Arjun. He paid and left.

From then on, every Thursday and Friday, he used to visit her shop. Sometimes he bought books; sometimes he sat with a book to read, opposite the fiction section in the old cane chair. Over time, they talked among themselves about the different smells of some books when they were new, about her archival restoration one day.

He heard in silence. He said about him that he was forty-three. He ran an exporting business of handicrafts. His parents were killed in a car crash several years ago. Never married. He never asked about her personal life, as he was making her feel like he was not asking too much of her.

---

One Friday, he waited till the last customer left. The shop had the aroma of agarbatti that the owner used to light before closing the shop.

"Priya," he whispered, "I'm tired of pretending to be here for books. Can we go for dinner?"

A strand of hair was falling on her face. She couldn't say no to him. She said to him that she would change into her dress and come.

"I will be waiting for you," he said shortly.

She went to the dressing room, splashed water on her face, and put on her maroon kurti from her shop uniform. When she came, she saw him standing near the door with his hands in his pockets, as if in a state of nervousness.

He brought her to a private area on the restaurant rooftop. They ate jeera rice, lauki kofta and rotis slowly. He asked her what she most feared about graduating from college. She said that she was afraid of being a normal person. He nodded as if this made sense to him. When the bill came, he just paid it. Outside her hostel gate, he moved a bit closer to her.

He held her waist lightly, like he was asking her if it was okay with every passing second. Her fingers curled into his kurta without realising. He then kissed her. She felt him different from the kind she had known before, not like grabbing her hips tightly.

When he pulled back from her, she realised that she had stopped breathing for a moment. She felt the aftereffects with him.

"Good night," he said, his voice rough once again.

---

On the following Friday, he again waited for her for dinner. She wore her favourite green kurti as it was a planned one. It was tighter on her, and the neckline was a little low. When he saw her, his eyes lingered on her neck for a moment.

"Would you like to look at my old book collection at my house?" he said.

She already asked him she wanted to see his old collections, but he said he would show her one day.

In his apartment, he showed his personal library. They moved out of his library, and they were standing 1/2 foot apart. She looked at him and kissed him. She kissed him with hunger. Her hands were on his back, and his hands were on her shoulders. Their clothes came off. He lifted her to the heavy wooden dining table. He made her sit on the edge.

He kissed her neck, and he moved to her lips, she was unable to control her breath. He then moved between her legs. There was no patience in him, it made her grip the edge of the table. Her thighs shook. Her voice bounced back from the walls.

She got down on her knees and tasted his salty skin between his thighs. She was eager to reciprocate the slow fire to him. He called her by name like he was chanting her name. Then he took her to his bedroom. He made her lie on the bed. He made her feel his every inch inside her.

Together they moved. Her nails dug into his back. She returned again and again with her face against his shoulder. He followed her hold on to her as if it were something precious to him.

Then they were twisted together in the sheets. He looked at a small scar on her knee. She said to him that it happened when she fell as a kid.

She lay on his shoulder.

"I started to come to the shop because of you," he said quietly. "The books were just a reason."

She looked at him, with her head on his shoulder.

---

The weeks that followed were pretty normal but not really amazing for her. She had her regular lectures in the morning. She worked at the shop in the evening. She would also creep into his place where they would make food like dal-chawal together. They would argue about which singer was better.

One night in October, after they made love again, it was slow and gentle. He was still close to her.

"I think all this back and forth is getting to you. Why don't you just move in with me? You can quit your shop if you want to. I want to spend my mornings with you, too. I love you, Priya."

She didn't respond immediately. She put her arm around him and heard the constant honking from all the vehicles that never ceases.

"You have asked, but when I think about this proposal, It's hard for me to think now," she said, looking at him.

---

After college, she moved with him. Still, she went to the 'Pages & More' because she wanted that smell on her.