Don had been hard at work for days, dragging himself through a lengthy research project at the University Library. The only thing that made it worthwhile was the luscious young woman who sat at the document desk and assisted scholars with their work. Don would be certain to visit that desk as often as possible, taking out documents one at a time, maximizing the time he spent joking and flirting with her at her post.
She was a Latin beauty, an olive skinned girl with long raven hair, each strand losing itself in a seemingly endless series of curls. Her accent, dripping with soft Spanish vowels, set Don's passions on fire whenever she opened her mouth. There were never harsh words, only polite banter accompanied by a shy smile. Her body followed a soft and curvy contour, from her delicate ankles to her slender waist. In Don's mind, Aphrodite herself could not have matched the uncommon beauty that sat before him day after day. Her name, almost as rare a flower as her body and mind, was Leonor. Don knew this, not because he had asked, but only because it was on her nameplate. A hunk of metal, inscribed with a few symbols that meant so much more when they were presented before the glorious person that they were meant to represent.
When the final day of his research finally arrived, Don playfully told her that this would be his last day for a while at the library. He thought that he could see an almost imperceptible frown cross her finely sculpted face. No, it was more a pang of sadness than it was a frown. But it was quickly replaced by a smile as she told him that she would try to visit the part of the library where he often worked, to see his research and wish him well. Improbable fantasies exploded in Don's mind. His voice, like a boat deemed no longer worthy of the sea, wavered and gurgled as he managed to gasp a reply.
"Fine then. I'll look forward to that."
Not exactly words from the pen of Don Juan. Oh well, he thought, he'd have to settle for just being plain old Don.
That evening, long after the sun had sunk beneath its horizon and the lights of the city had appeared, Don was still hard at work at his thankless task. The library was almost closed. Most of the interior lights had already been turned off. Sadly he thought of Leonor's promise to come by to see him. That event, already intimately connected with all of his fondest fantasies, had surely been promised to him just in the interest of being polite to yet another scholar.
But just as he collected his papers, putting them into his briefcase one by one, footsteps approached from the stacks.
"Sorry I'm still here," he said, " I'm just about finished collecting my things."
