There were books everywhere.

Lining an entire side of the wall – framing the entire square shape of the room, at least half a dozen meters up – littered into lower bookcases and a couple even spread over the warm autumn tones of the bedspread.

Leo, dazed, thought he might have found heaven.

It wasn't a large room by any means, but there was a low window that let light filter in – let shadows dance over the walls, over the books, making them all glow as if they were enchanted, as if they were alive. It was as if those books enveloped the room, shrouded what would normally be simple, wallpapered walls and clutter, and he felt rather strongly like it was a metaphor for the messy veil of his own hair.

Oh, but if everything could be solved with the veil of a book.

"Do you like it?"

That was Elliot, nervous and low-voiced and shifting from foot to foot behind him. This room had been a gift, in all of its cluttery, warm-toned, book-covered glory, and Leo had to swallow around the lump in his throat that was most certainly his heart.

"Yes. Yes."

"I didn't have a lot of time to clean it up the way I wanted to, but – "

And Leo just turned, then – grasping hold of Elliot's collar to draw him down to him, to his lips, to the warmth of his mouth to better silence him and simply kiss away any excuses because frankly, Leo could have cared less what it looked like. All that mattered was that it was from Elliot: a gift from Elliot, and filled with books, at that.

If perfection had a name…

"Sit on the bed with me," Leo said as they parted and Elliot could only look down at him, dumbstruck. "Sit on the bed, and read with me. It's like a nest." He smiled, easy and warm, and his eyes lidded beneath the fall of dark hair and thick lenses. "Our nest."

"… All right."

Little remained of the spiral of the day's remaining hours, and to Leo, that was fine. Time spent with Elliot was something he always had waking dreams about, after all, and this was no exception.