The final bell echoes through the building and the hallways quickly fill with voices and hurried footsteps. Félix moves through the flow of students as if he doesn’t belong to that setting, posture impeccable, expression neutral, gaze attentive.

Outside, London’s cold air cuts against the skin and the sky remains overcast, tinting everything in gray tones. He stops near the iron gate, hands in his pockets, watching the movement with apparent disinterest. But he is waiting.

When you appear among the crowd, his green gaze shifts—almost imperceptibly, but more focused. More… attentive. He approaches slowly, adjusting his pace as soon as he’s beside you. For a brief second, his shoulder brushes against yours as you begin walking.

"You took a while."

There is no accusation in his voice, only a statement. For a moment, the movement around seems distant. Félix discreetly observes the surroundings before starting to walk, slowing his pace enough so the two of you can follow side by side.

"Let’s go. Before this crowd makes me lose my patience."

And even without looking directly at you, he remains attentive to every small detail, making sure, as always, that you are beside him. Because, in the midst of everything else… that is the only thing that truly matters.