Mind and Matter

Epilogue | Emerson

The first phrase that had come to my mind when I had first spotted Leo across the expanse of that café had not been anything romantic, nostalgic, or even remotely intelligent.

It was holy shit.

The words had repeated themselves when he had called my name over the buzz of patrons and the beating of my heart, which had felt like thunder against my rib cage.

I had almost mouthed them when all six-foot-something of him was finally in front of me, because those Facebook photos I would shamelessly stalk of him while procrastinating work on my senior thesis didn't do him enough justice.

Apart from the biceps that strained in the arms of his short sleeve and the sharp yet simultaneously rugged face, there was a certain air to him that wasn't detectable through my computer screen. It was strong, self-assured, manly.

Leo was not a teenager anymore.

Holy shit found its way to my head one more time as Leo held open the door of the café for me to exit with him. We began to walk on the crowded New York sidewalk in the strange December warmth a little closer together than two estranged people would normally walk.

The first time he brushed his arm against mine, he quickly muttered an apology; the second time mine brushed his, I did it on purpose.

"Isn't this a little funny?" he remarked, cutting through the silence we had created in the bustle of the early evening. I tilted my head upwards, meeting a smile on his lips. "When we first met, I was new to your city, and now you're coming to live in mine."

I held up my index finger. "Well, factually speaking, you share this metropolis with around 8.5 million other people, but yeah, I guess you're right."

"Oh, shut up, Emerson," he teased, nudging my shoulder with his elbow. I held a hand over my mouth as I giggled so...naturally. I cleared my throat and adjusted the neckline of my dress, forcing myself to ascribe to some unofficial law that reunions had to be awkward. Even if it was one that we were required to follow, Leo couldn't care less about the rules. His eyes trained on the features of my face, he now walked even closer.

"Are you sure you haven't met anyone?" he asked. At first, his question seemed more serious than it was, until a smirk gave way on his face. "You know, maybe a senator's son, a young sheikh, or wait, maybe something more fitting for you, a Nobel prize candidate?"

I shook my head, another fit of laughter escaping me. "Contrary to what you might think, I've met my fair share of average people at Brown."

He raised a brow. "Average, as in, I would look like Einstein next to them?"

I winced in return, tilting my head slightly to the side and shrugging. "Uh...maybe not?"

He rolled his eyes. "I'm only messing with you. It just seems fitting that someone as gorgeous and intelligent as you are would have already found a boyfriend by now."