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"What's your favorite word?" he asked, making you knit your eyebrows together, blinking at him as your mind tried to come up with an answer.

"I suppose it's vellichor."

"Vellichor: the strange wistfulness of used bookstores," he muttered making you bite your lip. Not many people knew the word. "Good choice," he commented.

"And yours?" you inquired, locking your eyes with his.

"Querencia," he replied. "The place where one's strength is drawn from; where one feels at home," he began.

"the place where you are your most authentic self," you finished. "That's another rare word I don't hear much, you must be a real bibliophile."

"It helps that I can read 20,000 words a minute," he said under his breath.