xxiv: see you later.

"I'm going to miss you," Marisol said, watching as Colette packed clothes into a suitcase.

Colette looked at Marisol, closing her suitcase and putting it by the bedroom door. It hadn't taken long for Colette to pack her stuff, she hadn't brought much in the first place. Unfortunately, that made it hard to stall, and there was no doubt that Colette would be out of the house exactly when the president wanted her to be. That meant that she had to make the little time before then as best as she could.

"I'm going to miss you too." Colette laid down on the bed with a sigh. She gestured for Marisol to lay down next to her. Marisol paused, apprehensive, before finally crawling onto the bed from the other side. Colette slipped her arms around Marisol and turned onto her side. The two of them were flush together, chest to chest. Marisol buried her face in Colette's shoulder.

The situation should have been more awkward, or at least that's what Colette thought. Despite everything the two of them had been together, they'd never done the traditional relationship things. They hadn't been on a date nor had they introduced themselves to each other's friends. Outside of huddling for warmth in a blizzard, this was the first time they had cuddled while awake. However, Marisol felt perfect in her arms. Colette liked the way Marisol's small exhales tickled her neck.

"Are you sure that you want to do this?" Marisol asked softly, "We could run away again."

Colette could feel warmth swelling in her chest. Marisol, who cried earlier that day over their current situation was willing to continue hiding if that was what Colette wanted.

"I'm sure," Colette said, "Even if I'm just being used as some celebrity figurehead to boost the president's approval rating, I think the choice I'm making is much bigger than me."

"What do you mean?" Marisol asked.

"Even if I had a good way to say no, I couldn't bring myself to. This is a big deal. I remember when France legalized magic, and the joy that it brought to the witch community. Slowly, but surely, French witches are coming out of hiding and practicing magic. If I can help that transition here, then I should. It would save so many witches from persecution."

"I wish I could go with you," Marisol said, "I don't know what I'd do, but I know that I would feel a lot better if I was there."

Colette gently pushed Marisol, creating some distance so they could look at each other. "As soon as I'm able, I'll meet you in New York, and we can get back to normal."

Marisol smiled. "It won't be that normal for me, you know. Dating the famous heartthrob Colette is quite a big deal."

"We'll create a new normal then, where we're not fugitives. We won't have to hide anything."

"Sounds perfect." Marisol brought her hands up to cup Colette's cheeks and leaned in, bringing their lips together. The kiss was long, but gentle. There wasn't a rush or sense of urgency. Instead, it felt like a see you later.

For the rest of the time, they didn't say a word about Colette leaving. Instead, they chatted and laughed. Colette learned that Marisol's favorite color was yellow and that she used to be a major skate rat in high school. Colette talked about living in France, and how one day, she'd bring Marisol to her home country. Of course, there were plenty more see you later's, peppered in as gentle kisses between sentences.

When the door opened and Mr. Schultz informed Colette that it was time to go neither her nor Marisol hesitated leaving the bed. Despite their separation, they were content, and ready to meet each other again in New York. Colette grabbed her suitcase and the two of them walked downstairs.

The send off felt normal, like leaving a friend's house at the end of the day. Marisol gave her a hug at the door, told her to stay safe, and waved from the front steps when Colette stepped into the car. Just like that, Colette was traveling down the dirt road she entered from, a secret service agent driving her.

She felt sad, but she didn't voice it to Marisol. They didn't talk, but a mutual agreement was shared between them: no tears, just go quickly, do your job, and come back safe. She looked out the tinted window, watching as the trees passed by. Just a couple nights ago, Colette held Marisol in those trees as the world froze around them. Now, she was on her way to hop on a private jet with the president.

Throughout the drive, the sky darkened. Colette almost didn't notice, as the tinted windows as well as the long drive messed up her sense of time. The only thing that kept her going was occasionally being able to check her phone. Marisol texted a couple times, but the conversation soon fell off. Neither one of them could seem to text like a normal couple in such an odd situation.

Sleep tugged at her brain, despite it only being 7:30. It wasn't long before she drifted off. She woke up when the car slowed to a stop in front of the gates of a military base. While she didn't often remember her dreams, she was left with a vague impression of endless pink clouds in a blue sky. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and looked around. The gate opened for the car to drive in, and there were many twists and turns through the complex before they pulled up to an airplane.

Compared to commercial flights, the plane was small, but Colette could tell it was luxury by looking at it. Like the helicopter from before, the plane was a sleek black. It was perfectly clean, and the steps to get into it were lined in some sort of expensive looking carpet. A secret service agent opened the car door for her, while another grabbed her luggage. She was escorted up the steps and into the plane.

The interior of the plane was bright, especially compared to the darkness outside. Large leather seats sat in front of tables. While Colette was no stranger to first class flights, the private jet was a lot different. It felt more elevated, no doubt meant for the highest ranked person in the country.

After a few moments of staring, a familiar voice spoke up.

"Hello, Colette," said the president, who was sitting in one of the leather chairs. Next to her was a woman with a stoic look and glasses who had to be at least 50. "Go ahead and sit down."

Colette did as she was told, not saying anything. She must have looked like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide and not knowing what to do. Despite this, Rosie Richards smiled.

"I heard that you haven't eaten yet," she said, "I have some food coming. I watched an interview and saw that you liked quesadillas, so I hope that's okay."

Wow, she really did her research, Colette thought. She said a quick thank you before allowing herself to break eye contact and relax. However, that was not in the President's plan, because as soon as Colette tried to disengage, the woman with glasses spoke up.

"I am the president's personal secretary," she said, holding out her hand, "You can call me Mrs. Falberry."

Colette shook Mrs. Falberry's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you," Colette lied.

Mrs. Falberry didn't respond to that, only letting go. "After your food gets here, the plane will take off. The flight is about four hours, so you may want to sleep before we land."

Colette really just wanted to sleep right now.

"Additionally, there will be press when we land. The president departed to meet you secretly, but as soon as you stepped on the plane, we announced your upcoming pardon as well as Madam President's plan for an executive order. You are not to answer any press questions, understood?"

Colette nodded.

"Great," she continued, "After that, you will get into the car at the airport and be driven to Blair House, a guest home. While there, you will have security 24/7. We will wake you up by 7:30 to teach you everything you need to know. This will be your one day of preparation. The next day, you will meet with the president in the Oval Office for when she signs the executive order. After that, you will recite a speech that we have written for you at the rose garden, where the following press conference will be held."

Colette could feel herself getting dizzy from all of the information.

"You will get time to ask questions and acquaint yourself with your responsibilities more tomorrow. Do you have any other concerns before we take flight?"

Colette's brain was going into overdrive, though she shook her head. Mrs. Falberry seemed satisfied with this answer, and the plane became quiet.