“HANA JO?” Joanna repeated in surprise. “N-No! Of course not. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She stepped back, not taking her eyes off his face. “I’m not H-Hana Jo.”

The man knotted his forehead. And Joanna wanted to squeal at how handsome and perfect his facial features were. He has jet-black hair, thick brows, and expressive eyes. His pointed nose and pinkish lips were heart-fluttering to look at. He looked as if he’s one of the fictional characters that she made. Joanna paused. Now that she has studied his face… he’s kinda familiar to her.

But how did he know that she was Hana Jo? Joanna looked at him from head to toe with a knotted forehead. He was wearing a school uniform that he has never seen before. He’s several feet taller than her, approximately six-feet. And, with the way his looks flaunts gorgeousness, Joanna doubted that he’s the type of guy that reads young adult romance stories.

“Are you a writer?” he asked again. This time his voice was deep and stern. “Are you Hana Jo?”

“She’s not the person you’re looking for,” Philip butt in and pulled her away from the man. “You can go to the police headquarters. They can help you with your problem.”

Joanna swallowed hard. This man looked so familiar to her that she felt as if she had met him. Why does she feel like this? It’s strange and creepy.

“Are you sure you’re not Hana Jo? The writer of Sorrowful Kiss—”

“I’m not a writer,” she cut off. Her heart is beating fast. “I’m a librarian. And, I can only answer the questions that concern about books and reading,” she said and turned her back at him. “Ah, Philip, I think these books are enough for the weekend. Let’s go.”

Before the mysterious man could speak, Joanna pulled Philip towards the reception desk. She hoped that the man won’t follow her and would stop asking if she’s a writer. She couldn’t believe that she’ll encounter a reader like him. And, she also didn’t expect that she has a reader as handsome as him.

“He really looked familiar to me…” Joanna muttered while looking around the library. “And where did he go? I hope he has left.”

“Who?”

Joanna jumped on her feet. She turned around and glared at Che. “You startled me!” she hissed. “Where have you been? I thought you have lunch out without telling me.”

“I arranged the misplaced books in Fiction Corner,” she said, pointing at the farthest corner of their library. “Who’s looked familiar to you?”

Joanna hesitated to answer. “You said you arranged fiction books? Did you see a handsome student there?”

“Handsome student?” Che asked in a knotted forehead. “Oh, you must be referring to that guy?”

Joanna followed where she’s pointing her finger and saw the mysterious man sitting on the nearest desk. He was holding a book but not reading it. When he looked at her, Joanna gasped and turned around. Her chest hammered crazily.

“What’s wrong with you, Joanna?” Che asked, frowning at her. “I can’t believe that you started to act weird again just because you saw a handsome man? So what now? Is he your new crush?”

“What are you saying?” Joanna scowled at her. “It’s just that…” She glanced at him. The man was now reading the book that he’s holding. “He looked familiar to me…”

Che snorted. “Every good-looking man that you encountered is familiar to you even you haven’t seen them somewhere. That’s your modus-operandi as a bitch.”

“This is a different case,” she said and pulled her closer to her. “I’m a low-key writer, right? And, I never reveal my real identity and photo on any of my writing accounts?”

Che nodded. “No one knew who Hana Jo is and where she lives or if she really existed, except me.”

“That’s right,” she agreed. “But you won’t believe this, Che.” She leaned closer to her. “That student, sitting on the nearest table, asked me a while ago if I am Hana Jo.”

Che gasped. “Really?” She glanced at the man. “How did he know you?”

“I don’t know too. And, he also mentioned to me the book that I wrote recently.” She drew her brows together. “The Sorrowful Kiss.”

“OMG.” Che covered her mouth. “Maybe he’s an IT specialist and tracked your IP address on the website where you posted your stories to know who you really are.” She looked at her worriedly. “Maybe he’s one of your mad readers, and he’s here to get even at every chapter that you left them hanging.”

Joanna cupped her face. “D’you think so?” She looked at the man. “But look at him. Isn’t he too handsome to be a human?”

Che laughed. “He’s handsome, but I don’t think that’s too much. He looked like a campus heartthrob who doesn’t care about the female students gathering around her. Or, a loyal boyfriend and willing to give up everything for the love of his life.”

“I can’t believe you have created a full description of his personality just by looking at him,” Joanna said with a frown. “But he really looked familiar to me.”

“Maybe you’ve seen his profile photo on the comments section of your stories,” Che said with a wave of her hand. “For us to be sure, do you want me to ask him if he’s a reader of Hana Jo?”

Joanna shook her head, “No. If you do that, it will just confirm his suspicion that I am Hana Jo.”

Che raised an eyebrow at her. “Okay, if that’s what you want,” she said and shrugged her shoulder. “It’s time for lunch. I’ll be back before eleven-thirty.” She tapped her shoulders. “Be good here, huh? And, don’t harass the gorgeous student.”

Joanna stopped Che in her arm. “Don’t leave me alone here.”

“Are you serious? We can’t have lunch together. No one’s gonna stay here to assist the borrowers.”

She heaved a sigh. “I don’t want to be left here alone…”

“Alone? What do you think about the students and book borrowers on the tables? Are they flower vases in your eyes?” Che asked sarcastically as she walked out of the closed reception desk. Before she went out of the door, she waved at her mockingly. “Behave yourself, Jo.”

Joanna flinched at the name that Che intentionally called her to get the man’s attention. She really couldn’t trust her best friend when it comes to men. She sighed and turned her back at the reading section, where the mysterious man is staying.

“Isn’t he hungry? It’s already lunchtime,” she asked while turning slowly to look at him. “It seems that he won’t bother me again. Maybe he realized the embarrassment that he did a while ago.”

Joanna took a mental note of how the mysterious man flipped pages slowly. Every part of him really looked familiar to her. But she couldn’t remember where she saw him or if she has met him somewhere.

“Should I ask him?” She turned to face the man’s direction, but it was Philip that she saw in front of her. “Philip, have you changed your mind? Are you here to ask me out for lunch?”

“I’m here to return the book you’ve mistakenly included to the ones that I chose,” he said, ignoring her questions.

She knotted her forehead. “Wrong book? How come I only packed the ones we brought here—” Philip dropped the book on her desk. Joanna gasped as soon as she saw the title of her own story. “T-This is impossible… We don’t have this title here—”

The mysterious man grabbed the book before Joanna could touch it. “This is the book that I’m looking for,” he said. “This is mine.”

Joanna looked at him. “W-Who are you?”

The man’s brows drew together as he met her gaze. “My name is Rowan.”

***