Obstruction

Cadmus was still. 

His blank expression only changed when he saw the scoreboard, the small distance between the scores being the most uplifting thing he'd seen all day. He couldn't tear his eyes away when the mass of bodies jumped around him, or even when that same pile started to disperse. 

From behind him, his teammates lined up to resume the game. It was their fault for already forgetting about his existence, rather than his for being unable to quit his staring. 

The number had never lit his heart on fire like this. Winning was a sort of adrenaline of its own. The pure happiness and sense of fulfillment that followed were a bonus. 

Yet, the satisfaction of crawling away from the verge of defeat somehow made his mind buzz even more, and the rush he felt when he spotted an all-too-familiar blob of purple peeking out of the top of the bleachers definitely surpassed that feeling.