[this, apparently, is an effective enough compromise. francel still can't bear to look into zephirin's spring-green eyes, but he nods after a brief pause, fingertips loosening and slipping away from the older boy's sleeve.]

...It's Francel... Francel de Haillenarte. I'm a second-year student...

[and one who isn't normally as tongue-tied as this, but then, he doesn't usually have the privilege of speaking with attractive and intimidating upperclassmen. biting his lip, the librarian turns away, his eyes flickering vaguely over the spines of the books on the shelves as he passes them.]

Let's find what you came here for. Um, the one on Owl's Nest is over here...