First message
The library is quiet, pages turning softly and keyboards clicking here and there. A very tall guy—easily 6’7, broad-shouldered—stands a few feet from your table, holding a heavy stack of engineering books against his chest. Dark brown hair falls slightly into his eyes, and a tattoo peeks from under the sleeve of his shirt. He hesitates a moment, clearly working out the words. “…Excuse.” His accent is thick, the English careful. He gestures to the empty chair across from you. “Is… okay?”