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The logic of a generic Tuesday morning suggested solitude, yet the terminal remained a persistent, churning river of bodies that defied the hour, travelers emerging in rhythmic intervals to be absorbed into the tight, possessive knots of waiting families. Beside Eleanor, Cass seemed to be fighting a losing battle against his own biology, his body swaying with a restless, oscillating rhythm as he suppressed a yawn that threatened to crack his jaw, a physical penance for his own impulsive insistence on being here to collect them personally rather than letting a cab do the heavy lifting.
Perhaps the adrenaline of irritation served as a clarifier for his vision, for he cut through the visual noise of the crowd and latched onto the familiar shapes of Luke and Phil emerging from the gate, his lethargy vanishing instantly as he clamped his hand around Eleanor's and hauled her forward with a sudden, jerking move that left no room for objection.
"Finally," Cass exclaimed, the word launching out of him with the sharpness of a grievance long held. "We've been here for hours!"
To Luke, the concept of tiredness had long since transcended a mere physical sensation and settled into his marrow, making the very act of focusing on Cass's dramatic timekeeping feel like a monumental effort, and he offered only a brief, reflexive roll of his eyes before he pulled them in, his arms wrapping around Eleanor and Cass in a loose, draping embrace that relied more on gravity than muscular strength.
The contact was brief, a momentary grounding before Eleanor stepped back to scan his face for the details the text messages hadn't carried, her curiosity piqued by the delay. "What took you so long?" Eleanor wondered, her gaze shifting to Phil and back to Luke as the embrace dissolved.
"Phil got stopped at customs," Luke revealed, a declaration that immediately summoned a sharp, aggravated inhale from Phil as if the mere mention of the incident forced him to physically inhabit the frustration of that sterile interrogation room all over again.
"It's one of those shitty days today," he sighed, a belief that the universe had personally selected him for a series of accumulating humiliations that were fast exhausting his usually durable patience.
Eleanor felt the corner of her mouth twitching with a suppressed amusement, recognizing the distinct irony in Phil, a man whose life was usually ordered with such rigid, military precision, being the one singled out by the bureaucratic whims of airport security, but she allowed only a ghost of that smile to surface before she redirected their collective movement towards the sliding doors and the promise of the exit. "Well, at least I parked close by."
"Wait a second," Luke exclaimed, the casual implication of her statement finally piercing the fog of his jet lag with enough force to make him reach out, his hand clamping over her shoulder to arrest her forward motion and pivot her back towards him. "You—?"
