subject 13 // h.s. au

chapter twelve.

It took repeated attempts from 12 to finally rouse me from my bed around noon.

 I felt physically unable to peel away the thick navy comforter tangled in my legs and bunched around my chin. I felt warm and comfortable, and safe. 

I had barely slept all night, the nagging insecurity of what I was going to do now that the protocol was obsolete tossed in my mind. 

Also, my bed smelled of Harry's soft vanilla and smoke scent, and while it felt strangely calming, his eyes flashed in my mind on a restless loop.

When 12 had come in to wake me for the fourth time, I sat up rapidly as he announced,

"Harry told me to get you up so you can eat with everyone."

Anxiety shot through me. Everyone? I didn't know if I was ready to be around that many people, hear that many voices, see that much touching.

But, 12 insisted, saying that it would look more suspicious if I just stayed holed up in my room forever and that he would sit right next to me.

So, there I was, in a new black sweater and black jeans, with my old boots. I sat towards the middle of one of the ten long steel tables in the large cafeteria. The concrete ceilings were much higher in this room, connecting all the various winding hallways. 

The cafeteria was dimly lit, but rows of candles illuminated the tables, bouncing off of the polished steel. To other people the room may have seemed dim and hollow, but it felt calming and homey to me. 

Or at least it would have, if over ninety people weren't scattered throughout the massive room.

There was a noticeable lack of silence, each voice ricocheting around the room at a deafening volume. I kept my eyes trained on my hands, avoiding the chaos, as 12 set a bowl of oatmeal down on the table in front of me. 

I shot my head up to briefly smile in thanks. I brought my hands slowly out of my lap to finally eat, savoring each bite, as I hadn't had a hot meal in years.

 I glanced around my table to observe Huck, Oliver, and Quinn across from me. They were engaged in a heated conversation, barely even noticing my presence as 12 and I had sat down. 

No one else had sat at our table yet, and I wondered why all the other tables were filled, with people even resting against the wall with their bowls in their hands, their shadows dancing against the walls in the candlelight.

Suddenly, a harsh silence filled the room and everyone's heads shot up to glance toward the door as Harry walked in. 

His commanding presence seemed to fill the room and his boots smacked against the ground harshly, everyone nodding at him as he passed by. He wasn't wearing the jacket I was accustomed to seeing, instead he was just in another oversized black sweater flecked with white threads and a pair of black jeans that were cuffed loosely at the bottom.

 His hair was damp making his dark curls slightly more defined, and they swayed gently as he continued walking towards my table.

I was becoming feverish as he made his way closer, dropping my eyes to stare at my food intensely. 12 reached out to rest his hand on top of mine on the table. I had briefly explained to him what had happened when Harry had come to my room last night, and accidentally let it slip that Harry made me extremely nervous as we had walked to the cafeteria.

 I could tell that 12's hand on top of mine was meant to be a comforting gesture, so I just left it there, and continued to pick at my food.

The loud clanking of Harry's rings on the table and his murmuring to Oliver telling him to move let me know that he had arrived. I refused to look up as long legs stretched out underneath the table, his knees brushing softly against mine.