04-21-2016, 12:14 PM
I can see irritation in the lashing of her tail, the angle of her ears, the way her jaw tenses. I don't know what I did, but I'm opening my mouth to apologize again and tell her I'll leave when she sighs and speaks first. Oh thank god, she wants to drop it. I nod, a quick jerk of my head as a relieved “yes please” tumbles out of my mouth. And she likes my...name, yes, it's my name. It's who I am now – not lonely little Neverwas abandoned like so much garbage, but Nevi, a boy with a home and a family and a place in the world, even if I still sometimes feel like I don't deserve it.
I stand utterly still as she draws closer, watching her out of wary brown eyes as she sidles up beside me. But there is a familiar quiet yearning in the touch of her shoulder against mine, and I relax into it. I know something of the loneliness beneath that yearning, and my own intrinsic reluctance toward a stranger's touch fades in the face of her tentative advance. I return the light pressure, accepting the casual touch because I know how it can hurt to be without it.
“I live in the Tundra, which is...well, cold. In the winter, at least. Kind of squishy and wet in the summer, and I like that at least better than the cold. There's some nice caves to explore, though.” I answer, distracted from trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my body by a series of questions that should not be all that difficult to answer. “I...didn't always, though. I'm adopted. My new family has another boy and a girl too, and a--” I stumble a bit over the next words, because they still feel foreign on my lips. “A mom and a dad.”
Mom is someone who walks away without a second glance, but Isle is nothing like that. Dad is a stranger, someone who helps make unwanted children and never even meets them, and that is not Offspring at all. And brother, that one's harder still. Brother is too big and too complicated to parse, and the word is tangled up with sorrow and loneliness. I don't want to give my new family tainted words. But I think it hurts them that I don't, little flickers of sadness in angel brown eyes and maybe even in crimson ones too. Those are still harder for me to read, harder for me to even look into.
What would any dad see in me?
I shake my head, chasing away thoughts best brooded on alone, and my nose brushes against Lieschel's fluffy black coat as I do. “Uh.” I'm not used to people being close enough that I have to worry about accidentally touching them, but my earlier apology seemed to annoy her and she touched me first, after all. I'll say sorry if she seems upset, but first I return her question, feeling almost guilty because I already suspect the answer isn't as happy as mine got to be. “What about you?”
I stand utterly still as she draws closer, watching her out of wary brown eyes as she sidles up beside me. But there is a familiar quiet yearning in the touch of her shoulder against mine, and I relax into it. I know something of the loneliness beneath that yearning, and my own intrinsic reluctance toward a stranger's touch fades in the face of her tentative advance. I return the light pressure, accepting the casual touch because I know how it can hurt to be without it.
“I live in the Tundra, which is...well, cold. In the winter, at least. Kind of squishy and wet in the summer, and I like that at least better than the cold. There's some nice caves to explore, though.” I answer, distracted from trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my body by a series of questions that should not be all that difficult to answer. “I...didn't always, though. I'm adopted. My new family has another boy and a girl too, and a--” I stumble a bit over the next words, because they still feel foreign on my lips. “A mom and a dad.”
Mom is someone who walks away without a second glance, but Isle is nothing like that. Dad is a stranger, someone who helps make unwanted children and never even meets them, and that is not Offspring at all. And brother, that one's harder still. Brother is too big and too complicated to parse, and the word is tangled up with sorrow and loneliness. I don't want to give my new family tainted words. But I think it hurts them that I don't, little flickers of sadness in angel brown eyes and maybe even in crimson ones too. Those are still harder for me to read, harder for me to even look into.
What would any dad see in me?
I shake my head, chasing away thoughts best brooded on alone, and my nose brushes against Lieschel's fluffy black coat as I do. “Uh.” I'm not used to people being close enough that I have to worry about accidentally touching them, but my earlier apology seemed to annoy her and she touched me first, after all. I'll say sorry if she seems upset, but first I return her question, feeling almost guilty because I already suspect the answer isn't as happy as mine got to be. “What about you?”