There, with a steadied grip of my hip, was a tight clasp of fingers, a hand. And I cannot begin to tell you just how familiar it felt. In my helpless stance, pulling myself away from this particular hero in fits of apologies to them, it was the voice that I recognised first. Then it was the shoes, then the physique, then the jaw of the face, then the cupid-shaped lips, and then all of it. I knew all of it. My eyes wondered for so long I'm disbelief, I wondered if my vocal cords would even begin to turn its cogs. But they did, as I starred to battle the confirmation in my convoluted mind. "You?" I mumbled in awe; I could think of nothing to say at all. "You." He responded, thoughts visibly spilling out of the shock in his brown eyes. I gulped in horror, letting my lips part, my eyebrows raise, my fingers hold on to one another, and making sure I restricted my brain from encountering memories that would sooner or later come drowning in. They weren't terrible memories, that is why now, where I was standing, they were so frightening. Noah Evergreen, how you never change.