Rebecca
Cole has been acting strange since this morning. Ever since that hug—one so heavenly it left my entire being shattered—he’s been treating me as if I might break at any moment.
Now, as we walk through the corridors, I can’t ignore how unusual this is. We are holding hands. He’s leading me to some meeting, though I have no idea why I need to be there.
I walk slowly, my thoughts scattered, so much so that I don’t notice when he stops. I bump into him—a solid wall with the deceptive softness of a pillow.
"Ouch." I rub my nose and mumble, "Sorry."
His gaze is on me, as intense as ever, but different—lacking anger, absent of his usual annoyance. Instead, there’s something else I can’t quite place.
"Be more careful," he says, his brow furrowing. Then he looks away and starts moving
