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At first, Mydei hardly gave it a second thought.
Really, why would he? It was just a trivial note, sloppily scrawled handwriting paired with hackneyed verses, scribbled onto a scrap of paper that looked like it had been hastily torn from an old notebook. As far as Mydei was concerned, the notes weren’t even intended for him. So, whenever he opened a textbook, be it something hard to swallow like Amphoreus's Ancient History or something as ordinary as The Complete Cookbook for Young Chefs and a stray piece of paper drifted out from between the pages, he would simply pick it up, crumple it into a ball without a second glance at it’s content, and toss it into the nearest trash bin.
But then, the notes began to take a strangely specific turn.
At first, they were filled with generic flirtations, lines like “your eyes are like the rarest gems” or “your hair shines as bright as the sun”. Tired, overused tropes, sure, but Mydei supposed the effort was at least commendable. However, as more and more of these notes found their way between the pages and into his hands, the words began to feel unsettlingly precise, as though the writer knew exactly who he was, every line unmistakably directed at him.
“You carry silence the way others carry weapons, dangerously, beautifully. And I am disarmed.”
“We could clash like comets. Brief, blinding, inevitable. Tell me... what happens when neither of us yields?”
“I think the way you push your glasses up is really sexy.”
Mydei exhaled a long, weary sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stave off an impending headache. In all his 22 years, he’d never once dabbled in romance, never nursed a crush, let alone dealt with the peculiar dilemma of having a secret admirer. How was one even supposed to handle something like this? Should he keep ignoring the notes? The sender, whoever they were, seemed relentlessly persistent. Should he report it as a stalking incident? That felt a bit extreme, and besides, the local authorities were notoriously unreliable. Any complaint he filed would likely be buried beneath a mountain of unresolved cases.
Or–
A faint smile tugged at Mydei’s lips. If the sender insisted on being insufferably persistent, then fine, he’d simply fight fire with fire.
Unlike his anonymous admirer, however, Mydei still had some semblance of dignity, and a healthy dose of shame. He couldn’t bring himself to slip notes directly between textbook pages. That felt too forward, too exposed. Instead, he folded tiny sticky notes into discrete shapes and tucked them between book spines, hidden where only a truly curious soul might find them.
No one should ever have to read something so mortifying while trying to study, he told himself.
It didn’t take long for the anonymous sender to pick up what Mydei was putting down. The library had grown into a silent battlefield of glances and whispers on paper. Folded notes between two souls began to appear in tucked corners, between the brittle pages of dusty philosophy tomes, under the margins of celestial charts, slipped just barely into view like shy confessions. The notes had begun to grow bolder, more elaborate, more clever. They were no longer simple slips of paper filled with cheesy lines, but intricate riddles and cryptic clues that led Mydei on quiet trails through the library’s labyrinth of shelves. Each message was a puzzle, sharp wit disguised as flirtation, casual observations wrapped in poetry, questions left unanswered on purpose. Mydei, ever composed, would trace his fingers along the spines of books he didn’t care for, just to see if another folded square had been left behind.
Mydei would leave behind a half-hearted note.
“Leaving notes behind like this at your age is wild. Talk to me normally, would you?”
A reply would come a few days afterward.
“Admiring you from afar is so much more fun! I’m afraid if I get to close I’ll melt away from your radiance (⸝⸝> ᴗ•⸝⸝)”
“I like direct people, you know? Your puzzles will only entertain me for so long before I get bored.”
“Oh Mydeimos, you wound me :(”
So he’s aware of my name, Mydei mumbles to himself as he reads over the short and simple note.
Just then, a pair of shoes halted just inches from where Mydei sat. He glanced up, his gaze met that of a man with snow-white hair that looked like it had been hastily combed with his fingers and strikingly clear blue eyes, a way too enthusiastic smile on his face. Judging by his attire, he was clearly a fellow student at the university, though it was just as clear he didn’t put much effort into wearing it properly to make himself presentable. His shirt was half-buttoned, one side hanging lower than the other, the deep blue tie hung loosely around his neck barely knotted, more a loose loop than anything functional and his sweater slipped carelessly off one shoulder.
Slung over his shoulder was a school bag, the zipper barely holding together its overstuffed contents. One glance was all it took to tell what kind of student he was. The type who crammed in assignments and textbooks without a second thought, pages crumpled and corners bent.
“This seat taken?” The man asks.
Before Mydei could get a word in, the stranger was already tossing his bag onto the table and dragging out a chair. He dropped into the seat without hesitation, utterly unbothered. Mydei narrowed his eyes,
“You seem awfully sure no one’s sitting there,” he remarked coolly.
The white-haired man let out a light, almost careless laugh as he rested his chin in his palm. “Well, it’s not like anyone sits with you anyway.”
Mydei shot him a sharp glare.
The stranger froze, realization flickering across his face. Straightening up in a mild panic, he waved his hands in front of himself frantically as if to physically push the words back into his mouth, stumbling into a rushed string of apologies that tumbled out faster than he could think.
“Wait, wait! That came out wrong, I swear,” the man stammered, his voice rising half an octave in sheer panic. “I didn’t mean it like that ! I just meant– Uhm, people are intimidated ! Yeah! You give off that… cool, mysterious vibe!”
Mydei raised a brow, unimpressed. “Seriously? Mysterious?”
“Yes! In a good way. Like the kind of guy who reads ancient tomes and secretly knows seventeen different ways to kill someone with a pencil.”
There was a pause. Then, despite himself, Mydei let out a short huff of amusement. “That’s oddly specific. Do I give off psychopathic vibes?”
The stranger's eyes widened. “That’s not–”
“I’m messing with you." Mydei smirked, cutting him off, the edge of his sarcasm softening the words into something playful.
The man lets out a long breath, visibly relieved, though his cheeks tinged with embarrassment. He scratched the back of his neck, still looking like a deer caught in headlights, before he forced out a nervous laugh.
There was a beat of silence before the stranger leaned back slightly in his chair, eyes scanning the room as though he were trying to read the atmosphere for some clue to what Mydei might be thinking. He looked almost sheepish as he spoke again, this time with a bit of a teasing edge.
“Speaking of sitting alone—” He stretched the words out, drawing them like a fine thread through the air, “Why?”
Mydei blinked, slightly taken aback. “Pardon?”
Phainon grinned, the playful glint in his eyes only slightly masked by the casualness of his tone. “Well, it’s just that you come to this library all the time, and the only person I’ve seen you willingly sit with is Castorice. Just... curious.”
”You know Castorice?”
”Yup! We’re quite close.”
”Did she send you here to talk to me because she’s worried I’m becoming a loner?”
The stranger raises both hands up, dramatically mocking a surrendering gesture. "Absolutely not! I came here entirely on my own free will, no strings attached."
Mydei studied him for a moment, lips pressed together in quiet thought for a while before finally giving a small nod in acknowledgment, “Maybe I’m just picky about who I share my space with.”
They sat in quiet contemplation, the air thick with an unspoken tension. Mydei’s fingers absentmindedly toyed with the crumpled piece of paper. Noticing the movements, the stranger shifted his gaze from the dark sky to the paper in Mydei’s grasp and spoke first. “What’s that you’ve got there?”
Mydei glanced at the note, then shrugged. “This? Just a note some weirdo left behind.”
The stranger raised an eyebrow, his voice tinged with intrigue. “Have you replied?”
Mydei’s lips curled into a half-smile as he folded the note, the paper crackling faintly. “I have.”
A low chuckle escaped the stranger. “Doesn’t that make you just as weird?”
This guy really just speaks before he thinks.
"It's obvious the notes are for me. It would be rude to blatantly ignore them."
“Ah,” the man said, mockingly placing a hand over his heart, “so you do have some kindness buried in there after all.”
Mydei gave him a flat look, though the glint in his eyes sent forth the impression that he's challenging this bold, white-headed man.
“I’m not unkind,” he said coolly, tucking the note into his notebook with care that betrayed his detachment. “I’m just not in the habit of wasting time on trivial and childish things.”
The stranger tilted his head, an amused glint in his eye. “You mean childish things. Like secret notes left between library pages?”
Mydei's gaze flicked to him, sharp but unreadable. “Exactly.”
“And yet,” he said, motioning toward the notebook he'd just tucked away, “you’re still playing along. Entertaining the ramblings of some anonymous romantic.”
There was a pause. Mydei didn’t deny it. Instead, he let the silence stretch for a beat, eyes narrowing slightly in thought, as if he were only now realizing the contradiction himself.
“I wouldn’t call it ‘playing,’” he said eventually. “I’d call it... observation.”
'White-headed stranger' leaned forward a little, resting his arms on the table. “You’re studying your mystery sender now?”
Mydei shrugged, but there was a glimmer of interest in his voice. “Curiosity isn’t the same as amusement. I want to understand their intent.”
A slow smile crept onto the boy's face. “So you are intrigued.”
Mydei didn’t return the smile, but the edge of his voice softened. Just slightly.
“I’m curious,” he admitted. “That’s all.”
Before the man can continue to pester with another smug observation, Mydei switches the conversation topic. “How do you even know Castorice?” he asked, flicking imaginary dust from the corner of his notebook. “She’s never mentioned anyone like you. Especially not someone with... white hair and that face.”
The boy placed a dramatic hand over his chest. “I’m hurt. Are you saying she’d mention me if I were ugly?”
“I’m saying she would’ve warned me if you existed.”
He chuckled. “We’re in the same class. Professor Anaxa’s morning lecture.”
“It’s Anaxagoras,” Mydei corrected, unimpressed.
The stranger rolled his eyes. “Alright, Anaxagoras. You a teacher’s pet or something?”
Mydei’s eyes narrowed. “Do I look like a teacher’s pet?”
“No,” the boy admitted, grin widening. “You look like someone who grades the teacher.”
Mydei wasn’t sure whether to be insulted or amused.
“You sure Castorice never mentioned me?” the white-haired boy continued. “A ridiculously handsome, white-haired guy-?"
“Just tell me your name. That might jog something.”
“Phainon!”
The name dropped like a pebble into still water. Mydei blinked.
“You’re that Phainon?” he said slowly. “The one who once overthrew the entire classroom in that spiritual physics lecture?”
"Is that seriously my reputation now?"
“And the same guy who submitted seven blank essays?”
“The topics were boring.”
“That doesn’t mean you just give up,” Mydei said, clearly offended on behalf of structure and standards. “You’re going to fail everything if you keep that up.”
The boy, Phainon, leaned forward, clapping his hands together like he just thought of the most brilliant idea. “Then you can tutor me!”
Mydei stared. “Are you shameless? Who asks a complete stranger to tutor them?”
“You’re not a stranger,” he said cheerfully. “You’re Mydeimos. You enjoy drinking pomegranate juice, but you typically mix it with goat's milk and cheese so it gives off a pink color. You also like cooking, I heard that's your love language! Oh, and you're quite fond of young kids.” Phainon rambles on like this was the most normal thing to tell someone you're supposed to not know.
Mydei froze. “How the hell do you know all that?”
Phainon blinked innocently. “Lucky guess?”
Mydei scoffed. “Try again.”
“Castorice told me?”
“Keep trying.”
“I did... research?”
Mydei’s eyes narrowed. “That’s the most terrifying answer you’ve given so far.”
The white-haired boy gave him a lazy, lopsided grin. “You're interesting!”
Mydei folded his arms. “Have you considered talking to me like a normal person? You know, direct conversation? Getting to know me like a human being instead of borderline stalking?”
Phainon leaned back in his chair, balancing on two legs with infuriating ease. “Sure. But this way was more fun.”
Mydei raised an eyebrow. “So was ignoring you, but here we are.”
Phainon clicked his tongue, dropping the chair legs back to the ground with a soft thud. "Ah, connected the dots already?" Phainon flashes Mydei a small, crooked smirk, “Don’t act like you’re not curious about me too. You wouldn’t have kept the notes if you weren’t.”
“That was politeness.”
“You wrote back.”
“That was guilt.”
“You wrote back three times.”
Mydei opened his mouth, then closed it. He sat a little straighter, like he’d just remembered he had a reputation to maintain. “Fine. I was curious.”
Phainon’s smirk turns into a full-blown smile. If he were to have a tail, Mydei's sure it would be wagging back and forth frantically. “See? Not so hard.”
There was a pause. For once, the library’s silence felt like it belonged to them.
“Why the notes?” Mydei asked eventually, voice quieter now. “If you knew who I was this whole time, and that I was willing to humor you, why not just talk to me?”
Phainon tapped the edge of the table, thoughtful. “I tried. A few times. You always looked... unapproachable. Like if I interrupted you, you’d hex me on the spot.”
“I don’t know magic,” Mydei said dryly.
Phainon grinned again. “Your glare does the job just fine.”
Mydei almost smiled. Almost.
“You’re not what I expected,” he admitted after a moment.
“Oh?” Phainon tilted his head. “And what did you expect?”
“Louder. Dumber.”
Phainon snorted. “Harsh, but fair. And I expected you to be colder.”
Mydei shrugged. “Guess we’re both disappointing.”
Phainon nudged his notebook across the table, revealing a folded scrap of paper tucked inside.
“One more note,” he said. “This one’s meant to be opened in front of me.”
Mydei eyed it warily, then reached for it with careful fingers. He unfolded it slowly. Inside, in messy but clear handwriting, were a bunch of numbers:
XXX-XXX-XXXX
He looked up. Phainon was watching him. Not mocking this time, not teasing, just watching.
“Too much?” Phainon asked.
“You’re awfully persistent for someone who doesn’t know when to shut up.”
“And you’re awfully curious for someone pretending not to care.”
Mydei exhaled slowly through his nose. He looked over at the boy—Phainon, he reminded himself. Not just a stranger anymore. Still annoying. Still reckless. But a little less distant now.
“So what now?” he asked.
Phainon tilted his head. “That depends. Are you going to kick me out of your space, or let me sit here a while longer?”
Mydei didn’t respond immediately. He glanced toward the window, where late afternoon light spilled across the table like gold dust. Finally, he spoke—quiet, but clear.
“You get one chance.”
Phainon grinned. “One’s all I need.”
“Don’t push your luck.”
He chuckled, already pulling out a pen he clearly had no intention of using. “Noted!”
Mydei folded the last note carefully and tucked it into his notebook, the edges worn from curious fingers. The quiet of the library felt softer now, as if the space between him and the white-haired boy had quietly shrunk. There was something in the way Phainon looked at him, not with mockery or challenge, but with a genuine spark of interest that unsettled him in the best way. For once, the idea of sharing his silence didn’t feel like surrender.
“So—what’s your take on marriage?”
On second thought, there was nothing comforting or soothing about the headache this man was about to unleash on Mydei’s life.