Chapter Text
Before you moved to live on campus for college, you had never heard of a librarian who had a reputation for yelling. All the librarians you had ever encountered had been very nice and friendly, if a bit old. But Min Yoongi, the librarian at your university…
People talked about him.
You had never heard of a librarian that people gossiped about either. But this one, people had a lot to say about. They said he was young, handsome, and very strict, mostly. One boy in your class, Dylan, claimed that the librarian had punched him in the face for forgetting to put his phone on silent, but you highly doubted that. Dylan had an overactive imagination and was a chronic liar. The concerning thing was that the librarian did have the authority to ban people from the library if he deemed it appropriate, and he deemed it appropriate quite often.
It wasn’t until midterms that you actually had to confront the problem. As they approached, you realized that there was a whole list of books that you needed. “It’s fine,” You thought to yourself. “I follow the rules. He won’t mind me. I’ll just get my books and go.”
You had seen the building every day since you arrived, but had only ever been in the library once, during school orientation. It was four stories high, the first level only computers and a mini coffee shop. The second floor was where all the book were. And the evil librarian.
To your relief, there wasn’t anyone at the desk when you stepped off the elevator to the second floor. This was fine, you could just find the books you needed, and take pictures of any important pages for later.
You had always loved books. The smell, the feel of them. There was something about being surrounded by books for the first time in months that made you feel at home, and at peace. Finding the books you needed was easy, you had spent so much time in libraries as a child you knew where to look for things. You found a desk in the back to put all of your stuff, and noticed how quiet the place was. It was a breath of fresh air compared to the constant noise of your dorm room.
Once you were finished writing down everything you needed from the books and taking pictures of the really important bits, you set about putting them all back. Technically, you were supposed to leave them on the cart for the librarian to put back, but you figured you’d save him the trouble.
You had just placed the first book back on the shelf when you heard someone clear their throat. You turned slowly, making eye contact with a young man with circular glasses.
“…Can I help you?” You said, utterly confused at the glare he was directing at you.
“That.” He pointed to the book you had just put on the shelf. “It doesn’t go there.”
You looked at it, and then back at him. “Yes it does.”
He rolled his eyes before stepping past you, snatching the book from the shelf. “It does not. It goes here.” He put it about two feet from where you had placed it.
“Same thing.” You shrugged, not seeing the importance. It was only two feet after all.
“No, it is not—you know what? You’re not even supposed to be putting books back on the shelf. They’re supposed to be placed right there-“ He pointed to the book cart. “So that someone who knows what they’re doing can put them back.” His voice had been getting louder as he spoke, his anger at the misplaced book evident on his face.
“Hey, sorry, I was just trying to save the librarian some trouble. No need to get so upset. Or so loud. It is a library.”
He narrowed his eyes at you, before taking the book back off of the shelf. “Why are you putting it back, anyway? Don’t you want to borrow it?”
You blinked at him, the change of subject catching you off guard. “No.”
“Are you putting those back, too?” He pointed at the other five books you were holding.
“Yes?”
“Give them to me.” He held out his hand impatiently for you to hand them over. You did, figuring he was going to put them back since you apparently did such a bad job.
He glanced at each one before frowning at you. “These are all on biology.”
“Yeah, I’m writing a paper…” You didn’t see why he was so interested, you were putting them back anyway.
“Then why aren’t you going to borrow them? Don’t you need them for referencing? And you can’t have read everything in them in such a short amount of time.”
You shrugged, not wanting to admit that it was because you had heard the librarian was mean. What a silly reason that would sound like.
“Come on.” He gestured for you to follow him to toward the front desk that was still empty.
“Wait, why?”
“Don’t you want to do well on your paper?” He asked, stepping behind the desk. “Hand me your ID card, you can check them out with that.”
“Can you do that, though?” You asked, bewildered.
“What?” He asked as he scanned the bar codes on the books.
“Let me borrow the books.” You clarified.
“Well, I am the librarian.” He glanced up at you. “It’s kind of my job.”