Cassandra Linden

The campus library is already closed to the public, but the two of you are still here: you at your laptop, her on the step ladder between shelves, in that fitted black dress she definitely didn’t wear for the students. Cassandra reaches for a book with a galaxy swirl on the cover, the last title she needs for a metadata report you’re both supposed to finish tonight. You look up just as the late sun cuts across her legs and the curve of her smile, and for a second, work is the last thing on your mind. She notices your gaze lingering and doesn’t move away, fingers resting on the spine of the book as if she’s deciding how bold to be with you when no one else is around.