A library, a place of peace and quiet, a place to take a break from your problems and read—so Emmy thought, which was why she was there. She wandered aimlessly, waiting for something to catch her eye, paying no attention to where she was. This was how she found herself staring at a book called Ancient Histories, in the middle of a section of history and archaeology.

Archaeology…

Hershel Layton was a professor of archaeology.

And he hated her. He had to. She had betrayed him, after all.

A tear slipped down her cheek as she turned quickly to walk away, but it was already too late. The nagging voice in her mind had awoken, and now it would not be silenced.

Traitor.

It's all your fault.

He hates you.

You deserve to be hated.

Traitor.

Three years of "friendship", but then you had to be a traitor.

Now you've got nothing.

Just what you deserve.

Even a perfect gentleman like Professor Layton would hate a traitor like you.

She couldn't take it anymore. It was just too much.

=^w^=

Desmond Sycamore strolled through the library. He knew precisely what he was looking for, and where to find it, but he was in no hurry. Suddenly, a soft sound from the archaeology section made him freeze. Was that… crying? Before he even realized what he was doing, he had turned and was heading towards the sound.

He gave a start when he saw her. Emmy Altava, a fearless lady with a fiery personality, was sobbing in a corner. What could possibly have put her in such a state?

After a moment of hesitation—who knew how she would react if he tried to comfort her? They hadn't exactly parted on the best of terms—his conscience compelled him to crouch beside her and offer his handkerchief. "What's the matter?" he inquired softly.

"He… He h-hates me," she mumbled through her tears as she stared at the handkerchief with glazed eyes that probably couldn't even see it.

Only three words, yet everything seemed to click. The books must've reminded her of his brother, an archaeologist, and her betrayal. Silly girl… Doesn't she realize that Hershel Layton is too much of a gentleman to do anything but forgive her?

"He doesn't hate you," Desmond murmured soothingly. He noted that the proffered handkerchief had been ignored and began to gently dry her cheeks. She stiffened for a moment, and he worried that she might reward him with a roundhouse kick to the face, but when she moved, it was to cling to him, not to bruise and bloody him. He was startled, but he embraced her comfortingly until her crying ceased. Emmy then abruptly released him and stood, looking embarrassed. She fidgeted a bit as he rose, until she finally spoke.

"Thank you… Desmond," she smiled, her cheeks dusted with pink, before grabbing his collar and pulling him down to her height just long enough to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, darting away as soon as she released him.

Desmond Sycamore was left standing alone, one hand to his cheek, mouth half-opened to call her back, a puzzled expression betraying his uncertainty of what to say. And she was gone. He wasn't quite sure why, but he was almost disappointed by that.

Perhaps he would see her around sometime. He smiled unconsciously at the thought.

A/N: I still can't title. Or write well-

But this was kinda cute, I think. Maybe. I hope you enjoyed it at least a little.

Hm. I don't really have much to say. I suppose I've gone on enough for today.

Review please~?