- Invitation Status
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- One post per day
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Preferred Character Gender
- No Preferences
- Genres
- Urban Fantasy, High Fantasy, Epic Quest, Sci-Fi, Time Travel and World Hopping, Steampunk, Action/Adventure, Modern Drama, Mystery, Slice of Life, Romance, and many more.
The library was nearly empty, the yellow lights compensating for the lack of sun through the large windows, and Alice was grinding her teeth behind a large paperback book on the Role of Radio in the 19th Century.
Usually, the West Library was a great place to study at night. It was the only one of the three on-campus libraries (counting the Law Library) that was open after eight. The librarians went home at nine, but Alice had usually preferred to ask her questions to the computer consoles anyway. Best of all, very few students populated the library's stacks and study rooms in the evening.
Tonight, Alice could only see one other person, but one was quite enough. All the copies of 'the Role of Radio in the 19th Century' in all the libraries in all the world stacked together would not have been thick enough to block the leering gaze of the hulking student two study tables away. She held the book high, to block her face, but could feel his gaze sliding over her fingers, arms, shoulders, and even the top of her auburn head like the slick swipes of an oily rag.
She tried to focus on the text, but even if it hadn't been dry as toast, her mind kept leaping away from the first attempts at transatlantic radio transmissions and into her throat any time she heard him shift or move his chair. She kept wondering when Security would make their rounds. If they would notice that he didn't seem to be reading any books or even using a computer.
When she'd first walked in, she'd noticed the only thing on his table was the mobile phone that seemed to have most of his attention. She'd figured he was waiting for someone, or else just procrastinating, and then walked by him to an empty table. Her chair had squeaked when she pulled it out, and that had drawn his glance up. It had barely left her since, she felt it behind her when she retrieved the volumes she needed, oozed over her when she sat down, and assaulted her face when she had to put the text down in order to write down her notes.
Another scuffing sound from his direction made her grip her pencil until her knuckles were white. She tried to rationalize; he was probably just moving around a little, making himself comfortable, and anyway he was just looking. She'd been looked at before; Alice had never coped particularly well with focused attention like staring, but she'd always been able to get away from it relatively quickly. Right now, the library was the only quiet place open where she could get her notes down; the roommate was throwing a party, and the computer labs were closed for maintenance until Saturday.
"What're you reading?"
She nearly jumped out of her skin, dropping her pencil. He was standing over her, leaning one ramrod-straight arm on her table; he had a barbed-wire tattoo spiraling over his forearm. Real original, she thought, but bit her tongue. She felt her heart hammering in her throat; she wondered if the sweat prickling under her arms could be smelled, and then hoped it could. Maybe if she was gross he'd leave. He smelled like salami.
She looked back and forth between the book and his leering face.
"Uh, textbook," she managed, "It's boring."
As if he was actually over because of interest in her book.
"You should take a break," he said, standing up straight again. He stretched out his arms in front of himself and nearly under her nose. Was he trying to flex? He didn't have as many muscles as he seemed to think he did, but as he rolled his shoulders, Alice thought to herself that it didn't matter. He was still head-and-shoulders taller than her, and definitely heavier.
"Wanna come to a party with me?"
Alice gulped, looking at her notes and re-opening the textbook. What page had she been on again?
"Um, no thanks"
"Come on, it'll be fun, I thought girls like you liked to party."
She frowned.
"What do you mean, girls like me?" she asked, hearing the word 'bait' ping into her mind way too late.
"You know," he grinned, adjusting his trucker hat, "hot ones."
Her face burned, she buried her nose in the book, deciding the page didn't matter.
"It's really not my scene."
"Sure it is."
The book pulled away from her as he pressed it down to the table, holding his other hand in what might have been a beckoning gesture if she hadn't been so certain he could fling her toothpick of a figure across the room with it if he wanted.
She tried to move the book, it felt like it was fixed to the table with superglue. If she pulled harder, the pages would tear.
"Please let go." she said, not feeling much hope that he would.
"What, you don't think you're hot enough to go to a party with me?"
"No, that's not-" she tried to move back in her chair, but the library's carpet was uncooperative.
"Cause you are, you've got tits to die for, y'know?"
She wasn't wearing anything with a low neckline or anything, and knew for a fact that she was rather a flat-chested woman, but she still couldn't stop her arms from crossing over her red flannel. She wondered when the next security rotation was.
"Th-that's kind of rude" she managed, not knowing where to look and hoping that a more direct refusal would dissuade him instead of exacerbating the situation.
"What?" His face twisted, and her personal space decreased further, "I gave you a compliment,"
"Please-"
Alice cut herself off when the sound of footsteps drew her eyes like a whip.
Instead of security, another student. A female student.
Alice had been told before that her train of thought was not so much a runaway as a locomotive that derailed and exploded as soon as it left the station. In this case, the debris landed on a Tumblr text post suggesting a rule that if a girl is being made uncomfortable by a man, a passing woman should come over and pretend to be either a lover or a long-lost friend in order to extract her from the situation.
"Sweetie!" she called, raising her hand for attention and trying to sound relieved "Over here!"
Trucker Hat had straightened somewhat, and was looking between them. Alice tried to scream 'play along, please!' using only her face
Usually, the West Library was a great place to study at night. It was the only one of the three on-campus libraries (counting the Law Library) that was open after eight. The librarians went home at nine, but Alice had usually preferred to ask her questions to the computer consoles anyway. Best of all, very few students populated the library's stacks and study rooms in the evening.
Tonight, Alice could only see one other person, but one was quite enough. All the copies of 'the Role of Radio in the 19th Century' in all the libraries in all the world stacked together would not have been thick enough to block the leering gaze of the hulking student two study tables away. She held the book high, to block her face, but could feel his gaze sliding over her fingers, arms, shoulders, and even the top of her auburn head like the slick swipes of an oily rag.
She tried to focus on the text, but even if it hadn't been dry as toast, her mind kept leaping away from the first attempts at transatlantic radio transmissions and into her throat any time she heard him shift or move his chair. She kept wondering when Security would make their rounds. If they would notice that he didn't seem to be reading any books or even using a computer.
When she'd first walked in, she'd noticed the only thing on his table was the mobile phone that seemed to have most of his attention. She'd figured he was waiting for someone, or else just procrastinating, and then walked by him to an empty table. Her chair had squeaked when she pulled it out, and that had drawn his glance up. It had barely left her since, she felt it behind her when she retrieved the volumes she needed, oozed over her when she sat down, and assaulted her face when she had to put the text down in order to write down her notes.
Another scuffing sound from his direction made her grip her pencil until her knuckles were white. She tried to rationalize; he was probably just moving around a little, making himself comfortable, and anyway he was just looking. She'd been looked at before; Alice had never coped particularly well with focused attention like staring, but she'd always been able to get away from it relatively quickly. Right now, the library was the only quiet place open where she could get her notes down; the roommate was throwing a party, and the computer labs were closed for maintenance until Saturday.
"What're you reading?"
She nearly jumped out of her skin, dropping her pencil. He was standing over her, leaning one ramrod-straight arm on her table; he had a barbed-wire tattoo spiraling over his forearm. Real original, she thought, but bit her tongue. She felt her heart hammering in her throat; she wondered if the sweat prickling under her arms could be smelled, and then hoped it could. Maybe if she was gross he'd leave. He smelled like salami.
She looked back and forth between the book and his leering face.
"Uh, textbook," she managed, "It's boring."
As if he was actually over because of interest in her book.
"You should take a break," he said, standing up straight again. He stretched out his arms in front of himself and nearly under her nose. Was he trying to flex? He didn't have as many muscles as he seemed to think he did, but as he rolled his shoulders, Alice thought to herself that it didn't matter. He was still head-and-shoulders taller than her, and definitely heavier.
"Wanna come to a party with me?"
Alice gulped, looking at her notes and re-opening the textbook. What page had she been on again?
"Um, no thanks"
"Come on, it'll be fun, I thought girls like you liked to party."
She frowned.
"What do you mean, girls like me?" she asked, hearing the word 'bait' ping into her mind way too late.
"You know," he grinned, adjusting his trucker hat, "hot ones."
Her face burned, she buried her nose in the book, deciding the page didn't matter.
"It's really not my scene."
"Sure it is."
The book pulled away from her as he pressed it down to the table, holding his other hand in what might have been a beckoning gesture if she hadn't been so certain he could fling her toothpick of a figure across the room with it if he wanted.
She tried to move the book, it felt like it was fixed to the table with superglue. If she pulled harder, the pages would tear.
"Please let go." she said, not feeling much hope that he would.
"What, you don't think you're hot enough to go to a party with me?"
"No, that's not-" she tried to move back in her chair, but the library's carpet was uncooperative.
"Cause you are, you've got tits to die for, y'know?"
She wasn't wearing anything with a low neckline or anything, and knew for a fact that she was rather a flat-chested woman, but she still couldn't stop her arms from crossing over her red flannel. She wondered when the next security rotation was.
"Th-that's kind of rude" she managed, not knowing where to look and hoping that a more direct refusal would dissuade him instead of exacerbating the situation.
"What?" His face twisted, and her personal space decreased further, "I gave you a compliment,"
"Please-"
Alice cut herself off when the sound of footsteps drew her eyes like a whip.
Instead of security, another student. A female student.
Alice had been told before that her train of thought was not so much a runaway as a locomotive that derailed and exploded as soon as it left the station. In this case, the debris landed on a Tumblr text post suggesting a rule that if a girl is being made uncomfortable by a man, a passing woman should come over and pretend to be either a lover or a long-lost friend in order to extract her from the situation.
"Sweetie!" she called, raising her hand for attention and trying to sound relieved "Over here!"
Trucker Hat had straightened somewhat, and was looking between them. Alice tried to scream 'play along, please!' using only her face
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