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IT seemed that Michael was taking more than a few days to conduct his interviews. In fact, after a week, he hadn't even questioned half of the survivors. Most of the time, he was holed up in his suite, doing God knows what.
Coraline realized soon enough that his quarters were right across from hers. Sometimes, they would arrive at their suites at the same time and simply look at each other. Other times, she would exit her quarters when he would, and they would meet at the top of the stairs. Michael would gesture for her to walk forward, and she would oblige. Neither had said a word to each other since the interview. She questioned if he was just itching to call her, "Coraline Rose," again, because he seemed so fond of it. Coraline couldn't deny that the name caused a tickle to crawl down her spine, but maybe it was simply his voice that did that.
She wondered when he would call on her again. Despite not wanting to have another awkward interview with him, Coraline knew it was nonnegotiable. At this point, she really didn't care about getting into some Sanctuary, especially if it meant spending time with him again. For all she knew, this could be yet another elaborate plan to blow up some place and officially end mankind as they know it. He didn't hesitate years ago, so why shouldn't she assume otherwise?
The waiting was beginning to make her feel anxious. Coraline found her dreams consisting of long, blonde hair and big hands gripping her hips, but she refused to acknowledge the face they belonged to. The similarities to Michael were apparent, yet she had never actually seen the person's face in her dreams. However, she was thankful that she wasn't dreaming of the white-faced demon with black eyes anymore, or seeing it anywhere in her path.
Coraline speculated if Michael somehow knew about her dreams. Sometimes, if they saw each other in the mornings, he would give her this look, like he knew exactly what was going on in her quarters late at night. At least he didn't know that she sometimes masturbated while thinking about the anonymous person in her dreams – which wasn't Michael. Totally not him, she told herself. Definitely, not.
The anxiety from waiting soon started to make her leg shake at the most uncomfortable of times. Gallant began to notice it at dinner time, since she sat beside him, and he would constantly feel her leg vibrating against the floorboards. "Are you okay?" He finally asked one day, as everyone gathered around the table for their evening meal. "You've been worried lately – more than usual."
Coraline had looked around, realizing that it was only her, Gallant, and Coco currently sitting themselves at the table. The others seemed to be taking their time as the Greys began to dish out the gelatin servings for the day. Not even Venable or Ms. Mead were in sight, which made admitting to her anxiety so much easier, yet she didn't want to. If she told Gallant she was anxious about a second interview with the head of the Cooperative, he might question why she was even getting a second interview in the first place. She wondered if anyone else had gotten multiple interviews so far, judging from the long process Michael was taking.
