Wilhelm was right in his first prediction- the library was slammed. It took him a few minutes of pushing through the small throng of people to get what he needed, but Wilhelm was finally in line at the circulation desk within ten or so minutes.
Pheasant Brook (O/O with Icarus!)
Connor carefully probed the places his ribs had broken. To his relief, there was no pain, and he pulled on the new sweater. A faint smile flashed across his face. He was tired of hiding the bruises from his uncle.
Wilhelm walked back into the dorm with a small armful of books, placing them down on his bed. He sat down, fishing through to find a smaller book, placing the rest on his nightstand.
Connor looked up and saw Wilhelm. "Hey." he greeted, stretching and letting out a sigh.
“Ah, hey.” Wilhelm nodded, moving a bookmark between the cover and the first page of his new book. “I was right. The line was forever.”
Connor chuckled. "Hey, it gave me time to check m' ribs, so ah'm no' upset. You might be, though." He shrugged.
Wilhelm shrugged as well. “It wasn’t awful, I suppose. How are you doing, by the way? With your ribs and all?”
Connor shrugged. "They dinnae hurt anymore, an' th' bruises are almost gone." He replied, linking his hands together.
“Good, good. I’m glad.” Wilhelm tucked his legs underneath him, leaning against his headboard. “Broken bones are awful.”
He nodded a little bit, picking at a loose thread on his knee for a moment. "Yeah." He agreed, looking out the window.
Wilhelm opened his book, beginning to read. It was relatively thin in comparison to the others he had picked up, but he seemed interested enough.
Connor got out his sketchbook and started to finish up the sketch of the garden, cleaning up the lines and adding light shading.
Wilhelm hummed softly to himself as he read. His fingers turned the crackling pages of his book, eyes poring over the dark ink on the yellowing paper. Wilhelm’s posture shifted a bit, his shape curling in on itself comfortably.
Connor was rather curious as to what exactly Wilhelm was reading, but he didn't want to intrude and ask.
Wilhelm gnawed on the tip of his thumb, absorbing every little speck of writing on those pages the best that he possibly could.
Connor watched Wilhelm for a moment. He debated whether or not to draw the other male, but…no. Not without permission, and he didn't want to interrupt to ask.
Wilhelm broke away from his reading, rubbing his eyes and giving his neck a bit of a stretch. He glanced out the window, almost able to see the cold in the shocks of blue through the sky.
"What are you reading?" Connor finally asked curiously, studying Wilhelm, then looking out the window.
“Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince. I’ve heard that it’s good, as well as the basis of modern political theory, so.. I figured it would be worth reading.” Wilhelm shrugged, flashing Connor the book.
Connor blinked. "Ah have…never heard of it, but alright." He replied with a soft laugh.
“I can’t make any judgements on it yet, since I just started, but I’ll tell you if it’s good when I’m finished, yeah?” Wilhelm gave Connor a slight, crooked smile, stretching once more.
Connor smiled back, unable to stop himself. "Yeah, sure. Though ah cannae guarantee ah'll read it, even if 't is good."
“Sure, sure.” Wilhelm nodded slowly, feeling his heart nearly melt when Connor smiled back. “At least it isn’t boring, so far.”
He chuckled at that. "Tha's no' a very high marker, Will." He replied, flipping through his sketchbook.
“Well, sure, but it is a political treatise, not to mention that it’s from the 16th century, as well.” Wilhelm flipped the page, continuing to read.
"True." Connor replied, still flipping through the sketchbook.
Wilhelm watched him flip through the pages, wondering if he was looking for something in particular. It wasn’t his business, though, so he decided not to ask.
Connor kept going. He was just looking back at his previous work, and he hummed softly as he did.
Wilhelm listened to Connor hum as he read, even bobbing his head along every now and then.
Connor kept humming and paging through. He enjoyed paging through, because he liked seeing how his work had progressed.