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“Easier said than done,” Adam mutters, but he's smiling.

"Come here."

I stand up and move toward his chair, suddenly aware of how the simple act of approaching Adam feels different when there's romantic pretense involved. Even fake romantic pretense.

"Closer," Adam says, reaching for my hand.

The moment his fingers close around mine, I understand the magnitude of what we're attempting. Adam's hand is warm, slightly callused from years of handling books, and completely familiar.

"This feels weird," I admit.

"Incredibly weird," Adam agrees. "But not bad weird. Just different weird."

"Should we try looking at each other like we're in love?"

"I have no idea how to do that," Adam confesses. "What does being in love even look like?"

We're a mess. In the library with books, we're good, but I didn't realize until now that not only have I had limitations on romantic encounters, but so has Adam, which is why his mom desperately wants to set him up. Maybe I should set him free. It's selfish of me to want Adam to stay here forever, especially when I get the feeling he's not really happy. I shake my head at the idea. Of course he's happy, he loves my chocolate treats.

"I don't know! You're asking the wrong person. When have I ever been in love?"

"Never, as far as I know. Which means we're both attempting to fake an emotion neither of us has ever experienced,” I confess.

Great. This plan is already falling apart and we haven't even left the library."

Adam laughs, the sound echoing through the quiet space and somehow making everything feel less awkward. "Okay, let's approach this scientifically. What do people in love look like in movies?"

"They gaze into each other's eyes a lot," I suggest.

"Right. Gazing. We can do gazing."

Adam turns to face me fully, still holding my hand, and looks directly into my eyes. For a moment, we just stare at each other,trying to manufacture romantic feelings through concentrated eye contact.

It's ridiculous. And awkward. And somehow also... not entirely unpleasant.

"How's this?" Adam asks, his voice slightly lower than usual.

"It's..." I pause, caught off guard by how different Adam looks when he's focusing all his attention on my face. I've looked into his eyes thousands of times over the years, but never with this kind of intentional intimacy. "It's actually not bad."

"Really?"

"Really. You have nice eyes,” I say.

"Thank you. So do you."

We continue staring at each other, and gradually the awkwardness begins to fade. Maybe it's the dim lighting, or just the fact that we're both trying so hard to make this work, but something shifts between us.

"This might actually be doable," I say softly.

"Yeah," Adam agrees, his voice still lower than normal. "Though I think we need to work on the hand-holding. It still feels like we're about to start a business meeting."

"What's wrong with our hand-holding?"

"It's too... polite. Too careful. Couples who are actually in love probably hold hands like they mean it."

To demonstrate his point, Adam adjusts his grip, interlacing our fingers and drawing me slightly closer. The change is subtle but significant and suddenly the contact feels more intimate, more intentional.

"Better?" he asks.