Immortal Consequences(87)

“Tell him,” Masika pleaded. “Stop being a coward and just tell Olivier how you feel.”

She didn’t wait to see Emilio’s reaction, gracefully hopping off the balcony railing and landing on the ground beneath them without a sound.

She’d often wished somebody had told her the same thing. The importance of not wasting time, even when you’ve been handed an eternity of it. Because if there was one thing she had learned within the halls of Blackwood, one thing she’d never forget, it was that there was nothing more heartbreaking than time wasted.

Nothing more harrowing than moments you could never get back.

39

Emilio

Emilio couldn’t stop turning over Masika’s words in his head.

Stop being a coward and just tell Olivier how you feel.

Well, that wasn’t exactly an easy thing to do, considering he often found himself completely incapable of understanding his own feelings.

It wasn’t something that came easily to him. Even in his old life. And unbottling the complicated feelings he had for Olivier was a risk that could end in utter destruction. Or, worse, complete and total embarrassment. It didn’t help that when he did allow himself to think about his feelings for Olivier, it often felt like standing at the edge of a precipice.

He just wasn’t sure what was waiting for him at the bottom.

Once Masika left, Emilio spent a few more minutes observing Louise. She tossed and turned, muttering things under her breath. After a while, she woke up, groggily stretching her arms overhead. Emilio held his breath, waiting for her to do something out of the ordinary, but she simply made her way toward the spiral staircase that led to the dormitories and disappeared.

Emilio sighed. Well, he supposed it was time to set the next phase of his research in motion.

The Library.

But first—he needed something from his dorm.

It was silly. A ridiculous idea that had sprung into his mind earlier today—one he’d thought he’d squashed, but which now, after his conversation with Masika, reemerged. He probably wouldn’t even go through with it, considering that the mere thought made him want to crawl out of his skin and disintegrate. But just in case he managed to actually muster up the courage to do it, Emilio scurried into his room and scoured his desk until he found what he was looking for.

A flower.

He’d plucked the violet on his walk back to Litterman earlier that afternoon. It had been an out-of-body experience, as though he’d been possessed by the ghost of someone much braver than him. One second he had been walking, completely normal, and the next he was snatching the flower with the intention of giving it to Olivier. He wasn’t even sure where the idea had come from.

Masika’s words echoed in his head: Do yourself a favor and don’t waste another second. Abruptly, he knew just how he’d take her advice. He would give Olivier the flower and ask him to the ball. He knew it was rather late, given that the ball started in less than an hour, but screw it.

He slipped the flower delicately between his fingers and sprang back out into the corridor. Unfortunately, he was so preoccupied by his own churning thoughts that he didn’t see Olivier walking toward him until his face collided squarely with the other boy’s chest.

Emilio stumbled backward, panicked. “Olivier. What…what are you doing here?”

“What are you doing?” Olivier chuckled, looking Emilio up and down. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume you were sneaking off somewhere.”

“I’m not. I’m…” Emilio suddenly became overly aware of the flower in his hand. The pressure of it digging into his skin.

“What’s that?”

Emilio tensed. “What’s what?”

“That.” Olivier gestured to the flower. “Is that a violet?”

“It is.”

“Okay…” Olivier chuckled again, leaning against the wall. “And is there a reason you’re carrying it around?”

“I was…” Emilio cleared his throat. Don’t be a coward. “Actually, I was hoping to—”

“Wait—did you get a date to the ball?” Olivier interjected, stepping closer. “Is that who the flower is for?”

“Well, it’s…it’s not…”

“Dammit. I should have thought of that. Aren’t you supposed to get your date a flower or corsage or some other ridiculous romantic item?” Olivier cursed under his breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Scarlett is going to kill me. She already thinks I’m the worst date in the world for not wanting to walk her to the ball.”

Emilio’s stomach sank.

Of course.

“You…have a date.”

Olivier nodded, though he looked rather agitated, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

“Scarlett Byrne—you know her, don’t you? From our Elemental Obstructions class. Anyway, she practically demanded I go with her. Said I owed her for getting me the answers to Birdie’s past few exams.” He rolled his eyes. “I mean, I’m not complaining…she’s gorgeous, but—”

“I have to go.” Emilio turned on his heels and bolted down the corridor, crushing the flower in his palm. The petals slipped between his fingers like water running through his hands.

What had he been thinking? Of course Olivier already had a date. He should have spoken up sooner. He should have plucked up the courage and— “Wait!” Olivier trailed after him. “Where are you going?”