[o] Shelves upon shelves

Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words

A soft rustle of fingers on vellum whispered into the stillness as the final page of a book was turned. Slowly, begrudgingly, the story was brought to an end. With words and visions still hovering before her hazy eyes Maea leaned back in the chair and sighed, unwilling to close the book just yet. It had been a good one. The author had been prolific and produced a long-winded series that ticked all her favorite topics, and the end had been satisfying. Nostalgia was gripping her now, when there was no more sequel to reach for and by necessity she would have to turn her mind back on the mundane realities of life. She sat staring into space for a while, unwilling. It was calm here, and quiet. A brazier by the chair warmed the air and a shawl around the shoulders staved off winter's chill. It was plenty. It should be enough to keep her prone for hours and hours. But alas, the cup by her elbow was empty and as Maea shifted slightly in her seat, her stomach murmured quietly of neglect and the passage of time she had done her best to ignore.

Fine.

Bracing herself, she let the bindings fall shut with a muffled snap and rolled up onto her feet. Gathering up the stack of books from the side table, she slipped through the office and headed up the stairs on quiet feet, keeping an eye on the stacks to make sure she wouldn't run into anyone. Or at least, anyone she knew. Anyone who wouldn't wish to meet her.
It sort of worked. The lone figure she spotted was not exactly well known, but she did recognize Sah. Managing a polite smile, she nodded to him as she passed by, tomes clasped to her chest and eyes quickly turning back towards the floor.

She wondered if she ought to say something. Hoped, even knowing it was a vain and unhealthy sort of hope, that she'd be allowed to pass by unnoticed, or at the very least unacknowledged.

Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts

base inspired by Odd <3