Caison hadn't expected the school corridors to feel so loud.
It wasn't chatter of the students or the slam of locker doors. It wasn't even the scent of ink, paper and caffeteria grease.
It was the heartbeat.
Hundreds of them.
Steady. Fragile. Alive.
He stood outside the principal's office, fingers laced tightly with Ralf's, focusing on the pressure of his grip instead of the rhythm beneath the walls.
"You're shaking," Ralf murmured.
"I'm not."
"You are."
Caison exhaled slowly. "I just forgot how... human everything feel."
Ralf didn't respond, but his thump brushed over Caison's knuckles in a quiet grounding motion.
The principal's door opened.
"Good morning. My apologies for the delay."
They stepped inside.
The office smelled faintly of old books and coffee. The
