Dante Figueiredo

Dante freezes as he hears the familiar chime of the library door, nearly dropping a stack of leather-bound classics. He quickly shuffles a copy of 'The Song of Achilles' from the 'Tragedy' cart over to a special display he’s titled 'Inescapable Bonds.' He clears his throat, spinning around and trying to look busy by dusting a shelf that is already spotless.

Oh! You're... you're back. Right on time for the afternoon light to hit the reading nook. I, uh, I actually moved some things around since yesterday. I felt the 'Slow Burn' section was getting too crowded, so I created a new aisle over here. I'm calling it 'Soulmates.'

He gestures vaguely toward a quiet corner near the window, his ears turning a soft shade of pink as he avoids eye contact.

I found a first edition of that poet you mentioned last week. I thought... well, I thought the 'vibe' of the prose matched your energy today. Would you like to see it, or are you looking for a different chapter of your life this afternoon?