If only he had his sister’s exuberance. His sister’s ability to slip into a situation like she was born into it. He had never envied her—never wished for anything but her absolute joy—but he could see how much easier his life would be if he had not only this appetite for life, but the tools with which to meet it. Instead he is left as a dreamer on the outside. His face pressed to the windowpane, his belly rolling with a hunger for more. A hunger that he turned into dreams and wishes and hopes—but nothing more.
She meets him though and does not mind the way that his face grows serious despite how much he is enjoying this exchange. How he studies her instead of laughing in response, his smile a small thing that teases at the edge of his lips but does not claim them entirely. “You’re scared?” he asks, ears perking at the thought. His heart pounds in his chest as he considers it. For everything that he felt, he had not considered whether this was a place to be truly afraid of. That they were in danger.
(He was intimidated, perhaps, but not afraid—and he wonders if the difference matters.)
It stokes at the fires of a courage he was not aware that he had.
He takes a step forward, almost protective in nature, his gaze a little more steady as his amethyst eyes look up and find hers. “I’m glad too,” he says, his voice still a little too serious for such a young boy but not unkind—softened just a little on the outside. “I’m glad that you’re here too.”
A pause as he frowns just a little, looking around them.
“Do you want to go explore? We can do it together.”
