A Vow

“I will, Sir. Thank you,” I assured, clutching the book tightly against me as he nodded.

“Have a good day, Ms. Hanan,” he bid before stepping into the hallway.

“You too, Sir.” A smile automatically crossed my lips as he walked away, leaving me with a strange fluttering sensation lingering in my chest.

“Will that be all for today, Ms Hanan?” the librarian inquired politely as I returned the borrowed book to the library counter.

“Yes, thank you,” I replied with a smile and turned around to leave only to remember something I needed.

“There actually is something I needed help with. I'm looking for ‘The Anxiety of Influence’ by Harold Bloom,” I asked.

“Of course. We have the book. It’s in the literature criticism section, aisle three, third shelf from the top,” the librarian directed, her tone helpful as I set off to locate the book.

Navigating through the shelves, I traced the spine labels, scanning each row for the sought-after title. Finally, I spotted it, neatly nestled between other critical works. The book perched tantalizingly atop the highest shelf, just beyond the tips of my fingers. Stretching, straining, I teetered on tiptoes, desperate to grasp it. My pulse quickened, the struggle intensifying, until a sudden yet familiar presence behind me infused warmth into the air, sending an unexpected shiver down my spine. His intoxicating scent, rich and alluring, like the earth after rain, enveloped me, momentarily distracting my quest. My heart quickened, recognizing him without needing to turn. He effortlessly retrieved the book and stepped back, allowing space for me to gather the courage to face him.

“Thank you,” I uttered, extending my arm to claim the book, but Izan merely arched a brow.

“I'll take the book now,” I repeated, met by his lingering silence. With determination, I reached for the book, but he held it up in the air, a playful challenge in his eyes.

“I was getting the book for myself,” he calmly stated, but it didn’t take much for me to notice the amusement dancing in his gaze.

“But I need the book!” I pleaded, urgency in my voice.

“I got it first,” he countered, maintaining his calm composure.

“I was reaching for it first!” I argued, frustration seeping into my tone.

“But you didn't quite get it first, did you?” He teased.

“But I got to it first!” Frustration tinged my voice as I reached for the book, yet he hoisted it higher, prompting me to leap in vain. In my irritation, I momentarily forgot our surroundings—a public library—and his status as my professor!

“Fine. I'll give you the book,” his chest rumbled with a barely audible chuckle. “But what will I get in return for giving it up?”

“Huh?” I responded, thoroughly bewildered.

“First I helped you find the book you lost. Now I need this book as much as you do. So, what is your offering in exchange?” he prodded.

“What do you want?” I queried, tilting my head.

“A nice coffee and snack,” he replied, a slight tilt to his head.

I furrowed my brows, considering my options. “Okay, deal,” I agreed, reaching for the book. Yet, he retracted it.

“And I want you to return this in one week.”

“I'll return it in three days.”

“But how do I know you'll keep your word?” he questioned, a raised brow meeting my confused stare.

He pondered for a moment, tapping his chin before directing his gaze down at me. “Let me record your offerings and give me your number, so I can arrange my meal at a convenient time.”

I blinked in disbelief, realizing the lengths I was going for a mere book. “Fine,” I relented with a sigh, and he retrieved his phone from his pocket, extending it toward me. After I typed it my number, he saved it, then activated a voice recorder, positioning it in front of me.

“Please state your full name and your promise,” he requested.

I sighed and began, my voice clear and determined. “I, Mira Hanan, solemnly promise to return ‘The Anxiety of Influence’ by Harold Bloom within three days. Furthermore, I vow to treat Mr. Izan Dejanovic to a delightful coffee and snack of his choice as a token of appreciation for his assistance in retrieving and relinquishing the book.”