When I step out of the library, the sunlight has already softened into that late-afternoon glow that makes everything feel like a memory in real time. I check my phone on instinct and there it is—Elliot's reply, short and typical of him when he's trying to seem casual.
Not really, just finished a class. Wanna catch up? I'll be at fine art department in ten minutes
I hesitate for a moment. But only a moment.
Sure. On my way.
The walk to the fine art garden is short, but it gives me just enough time to second-guess whether this is a good idea. We haven't exactly cleared the air since... everything. But something about today makes me feel open to the unexpected. And maybe it's time.
I find him near the sculpture garden, pacing slowly between two display installations. He's changed a little—his hair's longer, and he's got that slouchy confidence like he's been living in the campus darkrooms. A camera hangs from his neck like it belongs there, like it's just another part of him.
