5. Many Generations of Interest
N oble followed behind Ollie, smiling probably just a little too widely as he listened to him cutely ramble on about the collection there. Though the glaring cat, who was following a few steps behind him, was keeping it a bit in check.
Red really didn’t like him. Noble had to say, it had been a long while since a normal animal had taken such a swift dislike to him the way Red had. Usually it was just?—
He pushed the thoughts away, as they would only lead to worse ones.
“Our collection of books on witches and witchery related things, a collection I know you have taken a bit of an interest in—” Ollie gasped, cutting himself off before he quickly blurted, “Not that I’m keeping tabs on what you’ve been reading. Well, I do, but it’s more that I check what books here have been pulled. I always have to, if I want to have any hope of maintaining our rare book collection… I…have to watch out for damage and all that,” the man finished nervously.
He chuckled. “I understand.”
In the Rare Books section, while there were quite a few books locked behind protective glass, there were also plenty that one could just grab off the shelves. He imagined, even if those weren’t as fragile as the older books that were locked away, they still had to carefully maintain them.
Ollie giggled softly. “Right! Anyway, what I wanted to tell you was that when it pertains to witches, you are in the right place. As I can proudly say that the Cross Heritage Private Library houses the largest written witch collection in the world!”
“Ah, is that so?”
The man beamed. “Yes!”
God, Ollie was like a breath of fresh air. Just this bright light, so different from the darkness that emanated off of Noble.
He had zero interest in examining why he felt he could breathe easier in the man’s presence. Nor did he have any interest in thinking about how much harder it was going to be to hide his attraction now that he realized the man was exactly his type. Noble was so screwed… Not that he wasn’t currently already screwed anyway…
Ah, Ollie was just this cute little talkative, nerdy bookworm. Which wasn’t really surprising as this was his library. Well…his family’s library, he supposed. Not that Noble knew anything about Ollie’s family. As learning about him would not help in his efforts to keep his distance. Then again, nor did randomly spying on the man in the children’s section, but he still hadn’t managed to stop doing that. At least he had never gotten caught. By Ollie, that was. So far, none of the other staff had ratted him out, so there was that.
“Is there a reason it’s so large?”
“There is! Magic, and magic users, just so happens to be something that piqued my ancestors’ interest. So much so that each generation added to the collection. I have never been told the full reason, but I can easily guess it had something to do with our close proximity to Salem. Either way, while I can’t say I believe in any of it, I have kept up the tradition, grabbing all that I can get my hands on, both old and new. Though—” Ollie smirked. “—I will say, the older the better. And…” The man trailed off and came to a stop as he frowned. Tilting his head, Ollie stared off down the row of books to their left.
Noble looked down it and saw nothing. “What’s wrong?”
Ollie’s frown deepened. “I could have sworn I saw…” The man shook his head. “Nothing…it’s nothing. Just the reflection of light off the corner of my glasses messing with me again.”
His brow rose at that, but didn’t comment on it as the man started walking again. Ollie was silent now, the frown still on his face, and he oddly kept glancing around, as if trying to see whatever he thought he saw.
Noble cleared his throat. “So, the whole collecting witch-related books thing was something your parents taught you to do?”
He knew he shouldn’t pry. Noble had no reason to learn more about Ollie. In fact, he had all the reasons to stay far, far away from the man.
Ollie glanced up at him with a brow raised. “I mean, I’m sure they would have, if they’d had the chance. And based on old acquisition records, both of them did add a few things, but… I can’t really say as they were younger than I am today when they died. At the time I hadn’t even reached my first birthday, so most of my understanding of them and my family comes from my godfather.”
Noble didn’t have time to react to the information, because Ollie’s eyes went wide as he turned bright red, and blurted, “Oh, my God! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to overshare! It just popped out!”
He remained silent for a moment, eyeing the clearly anxious man as he twisted his hands in front of him. Why did he…have this feeling that Ollie often apologized for things he didn’t need to apologize for.
Giving what he hoped was a sympathetic smile, Noble softly said, “It’s okay. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“I mean…it was…a long time ago. And as I can’t say I remember them… I…” The man grimaced. “You know what, why don’t you tell me what exactly you are looking for, before I overshare other things, and make this more awkward and uncomfortable than I already have?”
Noble just barely stopped himself from admitting that he wasn’t uncomfortable. Ollie didn’t need to know how he felt. “Diaries. I’m looking for diaries that were assumed to be written by witches. I suppose I should have asked if that was something you had before coming back here…but…”
“But I set off before you got a chance?” Ollie said with a depreciative laugh. “No doubt you couldn’t get a word in with how much I talk.”
He couldn’t help but frown at that. Who the hell had told Ollie he talked too much? “No, it’s more that I got distracted by you, rather than because of you. I don’t think you talk too much at all.”
“Oh...” The man blinked, his brow pulling, as if he was unsure how to take what he’d said.
Noble, on the other hand, was wondering why he kept trying to dig himself a deeper hole.
Ollie cleared his throat. “Umm…” He cleared his throat again. “Well, we do have a selection of diaries that, based on the content, are believed to have been written by ‘witches’.” The man did air quotes as he said the word witches. “But they are not on these shelves. I’m afraid they are far too old to be placed down here.”
“Ah, so I’d have to book an appointment to read them?”