Micah didn't stop dragging Emile until they burst out of the dormitory doors. The evening air hit them, cooler than inside, carrying the faint scent of grass and stone dust from the countryside. He released Emile's wrist with a shove, chest rising and falling quickly.
"Are you nuts?" he snapped, voice sharp with panic.
Emile took a step back, immediately rubbing at his mouth with a wince. His glare shot daggers. "You are the one to talk! Ah, damn, my face hurts. What the hell is with your strength? Are you a gorilla?"
Micah ran a hand through his hair, pacing a few steps as though the ground itself was unstable. "Damn it." His voice lowered, laced with frustration. "Of all people, why the hell do you have to be his nephew?"
