The library's old-periodicals annex was a tomb of forgotten news and dusty air. It was Avery's sanctuary precisely because no one else ever came here. The silence was thick, broken only by the soft scratch of his pencil and the distant, muffled hum of the main library.
He was trying to lose himself in the lines of a new sketch just shapes, patterns, nothing that could be a face, especially not that face when the world exploded above him.
It wasn't a sound. It was a sudden, shocking cold. A torrent of icy water erupted from the ceiling directly over his carrel, drenching him, his sketchbook, his backpack in seconds. He gasped, stumbling back, his chair screeching against the floor. The water drummed a deafening rhythm on the laminate desktop, soaking into the hundred-year-old newspapers, turning everything into a cold, pulpy mess.
Before the shock could even settle, a second terror struck.
A heavy metallic THUNK echoed through the small annex. He whirled around. The single electronic door that led back to the main library had sealed shut, its status light blinking from green to a solid, ominous red.
Locked.
He was trapped. In the sudden, roaring downpour, in the semi-darkness of the emergency lights flickering on.
Panic, cold and sharp as the water, lanced through him. He stumbled to the door, hands slipping on the wet handle. He pulled. He shoved. He pounded on the reinforced glass window. "Hey! Hello! I'm locked in!"
His voice was swallowed by the relentless hiss and splash of the sprinkler. He could see vague shapes moving in the well-lit main library through the fogged glass, but no one turned. No one heard.
He was alone. Soaked. Freezing. And trapped. The walls, lined with shelves of decaying paper, seemed to lean in, the smell of wet dust choking him. It felt like a tomb. A cold, drowning tomb.
This is it, a hysterical voice whispered in his mind. This is how it ends. Not with a knife or a fire, but with a stupid accident in a forgotten room. They'll find me here, waterlogged and
"Avery?"
The voice cut through the watery chaos. Clear. Calm. Familiar.
He spun around, water flying from his hair.
Leo Maddox was standing at the door's window, a look of concerned shock on his face. He wasn't on the other side of the glass. He was in the annex, having somehow come through the emergency exit door Avery hadn't even noticed in his panic.
For a split second, seeing Leo here, in the heart of his terror, felt like the most natural, most terrifying thing in the world. Of course he was here.
"Leo?" Avery's voice was a shivering rasp.
"I was in the main library. I heard the water, saw the door lock." Leo's eyes swept over him, taking in his drenched clothes, his trembling form, the ruined sketchbook. His expression was a perfect portrait of alarmed competence. "Are you hurt?"
Avery could only shake his head, teeth beginning to chatter.
"Okay. Okay, just stay calm." Leo pulled out his phone, thumb flying across the screen. "I'm messaging the librarian and campus security. They'll override the door and shut off the water." He spoke with absolute authority, a general on a flooded battlefield.
He then shrugged out of his own blazer a pristine, expensive thing and without asking, stepped forward and draped it over Avery's shaking shoulders. The warmth from his body still lingered in the fabric. It was an intimate, overwhelming contrast to the icy water.
"Here," Leo said, his voice softening. "You're freezing."
Avery flinched at the touch of the jacket, at Leo's sudden proximity in the confined, dripping space. But the warmth was undeniable. He clutched the blazer around himself, a weak, instinctive move.
"Th-thanks," he stammered, unable to meet Leo's eyes. He stared at a puddle forming around his soaked sneakers.
"Don't thank me," Leo said, his gaze unwavering. "This shouldn't have happened. This door is supposed to fail-safe open, not closed." He sounded genuinely irritated, as if the malfunction were a personal affront. He moved to the door, examining the control panel with a focused frown. "It's a glitch in the old system. I've pointed it out before."
He was creating a story. A logical, believable story. A random, scary accident, and he, Leo Maddox, just happened to be in the right place to witness it, to act.
Avery wanted to believe it. He desperately wanted this to be a random, stupid accident. But the coincidence was too perfect. The locked door. The isolated location. And Leo, appearing like a knight just as the drawbridge slammed shut.
"How... how did you get in here?" Avery asked, his voice small.
Leo pointed to a shadowed corner. "Emergency exit. It's supposed to be alarmed, but the sensor's been dead for years. Another thing I reported." He gave a slight, frustrated shake of his head, the picture of a responsible student let down by the administration. He turned his focus back to Avery. His eyes were full of a warmth that felt more dangerous than the cold. "Just focus on staying warm. They'll be here in a minute."
And they were. The water shut off with a shuddering groan, leaving a ringing silence broken only by the drip, drip, drip from the shelves. The red light on the door turned green, and it hissed open, revealing a flustered librarian and a campus security guard.
There was a flurry of activity questions, towels, a report being filed. Avery stood in a daze, wrapped in Leo's blazer, giving monosyllabic answers. He was aware of Leo beside him the entire time, calmly explaining what he'd seen, subtly guiding the narrative.
"I'm just glad I was nearby," Leo said to the guard, placing a gentle, reassuring hand on Avery's shoulder.
This time, Avery didn't flinch. He was too numb, too confused, too grateful to be out of that cold, dark trap.
As they were finally told they could leave, Leo walked with him out of the library. The autumn sun felt alien on his soaked skin.
"You should get home, get into dry clothes," Leo said, his tone kind but firm. "Do you need a ride?"
The offer hung in the air. The memory of the last car ride, the diner, the flinch, flooded back. But so did the memory of the locked door, the terror, the warmth of the blazer.
Avery looked at Leo really looked. He saw the handsome face, the concerned eyes, the effortless control. Was this his stalker? His tormentor? Or was this just... a good guy? A lucky coincidence? The brother of a possible psycho, who himself had done nothing but be kind?
His mind, waterlogged and terrified, couldn't untangle it.
"No," Avery whispered, handing the damp blazer back. "I... I'll walk. Thank you. For... for that."
Leo took the jacket, his fingers brushing Avery's. He didn't push. He just nodded. "Okay. Feel better, Avery."
He stood and watched as Avery walked away, a shivering, solitary figure.
Leo didn't move until Avery turned the corner. Then, he lifted his blazer, now damp and smelling of chlorine and fear, and brought it to his face. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes.
A perfect strand, woven into the lattice. Not through force, but through rescue. The terror was theirs the accident, the isolation. The safety was his.
He texted Ezra.
Leo: The rose encountered a sudden frost. I provided shelter. Growth is imminent.
He put his phone away, a serene, satisfied feeling settling in his chest. The vine was beginning to curl in the right direction. All it had needed was the correct amount of pressure, the perfect kind of storm.