𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃, joseph descamps

𝟎𝟏𝟓. a meal without vomiting

THE NOISE OF THE CAFETERIA IS ALWAYS DEAFENING, a mix of laughter, animated conversations, and clattering trays. Joseph sits at his usual table with his friends, but his gaze is drawn to Aimée. Today, she seems different, her face tense and worried. She shovels her food down at an alarming rate, as if each bite is a race against time.

"Hey, look at Aimée, she's stuffing herself like a goose," jokes Jean, but Joseph doesn't smile. She's more the type to pick at her plate and never really finish it.

He continues to watch her, seeing her scan the room nervously before abruptly standing up, leaving her tray half-full. Abandoning his friends, he quietly follows her across the cafeteria, his instincts screaming that something is wrong.

When he enters the restroom, he finds her bent over the toilet, her hair falling messily around her. The sound she emits is both desperate and heartbreaking, hitting him like a punch.

She jumps as he approaches, surprised to see him. Tears shine in her eyes, but she straightens up, trying to mask her distress.

"I... I'm fine," she stammers.

"That doesn't look like it," he retorts, stepping closer. "Let me help you."

She shakes her head, her features marked by shame. "Joseph, I told you I'm fine !"

He moves closer, hesitating to touch her but feeling he has to do something. Ignoring her reluctance, he positions himself behind her, his hand gently slipping into her hair to keep it away from her face. "Let me do this."

As she leans over the toilet again, he pays close attention, holding her hair firmly. The acrid smell and the unpleasant sounds of vomiting fill the air, but he can't bring himself to pull away. He is there, supporting her in her most vulnerable moment.

When she finishes, she remains there, gasping, tears in her eyes. "Do you want me to walk you home ?"

She nods, a mix of shame and exhaustion in her gaze. "I don't want to go back to class," she finally admits.

"I can walk you home. It might do you some good," he suggests.

"You shouldn't waste your day on me," she murmurs, trying to pull away.

"Stop that, Aimée. Do you really think I'm going back to class after this ?" He gives her a look that's almost amused, even though the situation is far from funny.

She can't help but smile faintly, appreciating that he takes her state seriously. "Okay. I guess I could go home," she finally says.

"Come on, I'll walk with you."

They exit the restroom, finally reach the exit, and he holds the door open for her with unexpected courtesy. She turns to him, and for the first time, she doesn't see just Joseph Descamps, the boy with whom she's always had friction. She sees Joseph, simply Joseph.

The silence is both heavy and comforting, each step echoing in their minds. Aimée, hands shoved into her coat pockets, steals glances at him, wondering what he really thinks of her after what he just witnessed.

"I'm not sure it was a good idea to follow you," she finally throws out, her voice tinged with slight provocation. It's her defense mechanism.

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "And you think I enjoyed it ? I saw you. It was pretty..."

"You're just judging me like everyone else."

"I'm not judging you," he replies, his tone serious, but his smile betrays an amusement only she can understand. "I'm observing you. And believe me, it's a little different."