‡† The Unseen †‡

21 † The Return †

Apologies for any mistakes you might come across!

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Should've made that one week leave two weeks instead.

The school corridors buzzed with the usual chatter, but for Raven, each step felt like wading through actual molasses.

His week-long absence had left a void, and now, returning felt like stepping into a world that had moved on without him. Almost like he'd grown and thrived in another universe, and come back to realize that the others actually looked through another galaxy, their sensory lenses still attuned to a dimension that he couldn't see. One that, to him, didn't exist.

I'm not making sense, am I?

He knew they could see the changes. They could all see it. Even though he'd made sure they weren't circles under his eyes and whatnot, his amber eyes looked darker now, more intense. His clothing had taken a turn. He was one for hoodies and pressed trousers and belts, but now, the flannel cream T-shirt and black sweatpants and calf length boots was bringing comfort to him.

And most noticeable, his hair—no longer packed up, so the bleached ends were catching light—turned heads, as expected. It was rough, wild, and the hair at the front was pulled back into a miniature bun at the back of his head, the rest at the back tumbling down in curls and cowlicks, and the shorter locks at the front dangling down his forehead.

Yeah, he looked like a delinquent. Even his tired stride showed that.

Whispers trailed behind him, curious and shallow.

Because seriously, did my change of dressing really matter?

But he didn’t care. Not really.

He'd finally taken a page out of Devon's book. If he was tired, he wasn't going to bother hiding it. He wasn't going to take more pressure trying to dress perfect, look perfect, fake jokes..

Nope.

"Hey, Raven! Where've you been? Looking good, mate!" a classmate called out.

He didn't bother trying to force a smile,  although the corners of his mouth twitched. "Just dealing with some family stuff."

"Oh my gosh, he's looking so fine! That's it, I'm asking him if he's straight today."

"Girl, that's what you've been saying for the past year.."

"It's not my fault he looks so.. ugh!"

More giggles. More catcalls. More staring. More of the guys asking how's it been, where he's been, and him giving them what they wanted—a shallow answer. That was enough to quell their curiosity. He didn't even mind.

What he did mind, was the way Devon froze when their eyes met across the hallways he passed.

He could see the surprise flicker in his eyes, the stoic expression yielding for a second before it regained footing. He could see him studying Raven. This one that didn't try to put on a smile and act like a chivalrous knight. This one that didn't fight against the tremor of stress coursing through him; this one was exhausted enough to allow the stress weigh on him, his once straight, rigid shoulders and back giving way to the tremors that coursed through him once in a while and the imbalance in his feet each time he turned a corner or even turned the trajectory of his feet.

God, I'm so tired..

Devon had clearly been looking for him—it might not be obvious to others, but it was painfully obvious to him—Raven could see his hand still clutching the strap of his bag, lips parted slightly like he’d had something rehearsed. But seeing Raven in the flesh, calm and tired and unreadable, had him faltering.