24 • surprise, surprise

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one can be the master of what one does, but never of what one feels.❞
flaubert

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COLE and I have different definitions of 'later'.

That much is obvious when I am stood outside his door the following evening, listening to him explain why it would be impossible for me to visit him the rest of the weekend due to some tests they were running on him. He keeps his explanation short and vague, with a promise of catching up later.

What I don't realise however, is that by later, Cole meant Monday morning.

Monday morning, as in, during broad daylight, when he is visible to the general public. As in, in the middle of the cafeteria, of all places, where I am currently choking on my cereal at the mere sight of him.

"Whoa, there, Sparko," Markus says, his voice raising in slight alarm as he pats my back to help dislodge the food fragment. "Don't die on us just yet."

"Thanks," I respond, when my breathing is more regulated. "I'll try."

This earns a weak chuckle from the rest of the table once they are assured I am fine. Calmer, and in a more stable state of mind, I let my eyes trail back to where Cole is stood by the entrance of the cafeteria, discussing something with Agent Redmond.

He hasn't noticed me yet, but that doesn't stop me from staring.

There is a small frown etched on his face, a little wrinkle on his forehead, an almost unnoticeable tic in his defined jawline as he listened to whatever Redmond had to say. A moment later, he is handed a tray of food and his frown only deepens.

I knew why. They gave him a red apple. Cole preferred the green ones.

In spite of myself, I smile a little for remembering that.

"Hey, what's Emma looking a—oh my God," I hear Willow begin to question until she turns in the direction of my stares and freezes as well. "Is that him?"

In an instant, the rest of the table turn their heads towards the entrance of the cafeteria too, and they are stunned into silence. In fact, I think half the cafeteria notices him too, because suddenly, a deathly silence sweeps over the room.

We gawk, blatantly, as Redmond gives leave to the boy with the silvery white locks who up until that point, most had believed to be a myth. We stare, mystified, as he weaves his way through the tables, curving around the people sat on them, as if they were mere ants to him, scouting for a place he deemed worthy of his attention.

It only occurs to me when he's less than 6 feet away, that he still hasn't noticed me.

Maybe I should have counted that as a good thing. If we wanted our excursions to remain secret, it would be better if I didn't say anything. It would be better if I just let him walk by, none the wiser.

Yet...when he walks past our table, I can't resist.

Instinctively, I reach out to grab his arm and say, "You can sit with us. If you want."

Cole looks down at our connected hands, and then up at me. And for a fraction of a second, an emotion flickers on his face. Relief, I realise.

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