11-28-2020, 12:29 AM
CrownS
He wonders if she’s just trying to flatter him with all this talk of him being terrifying, acting as though it should come as no surprise that she feels this way. But her smile is soft and genuine enough that he doesn’t suggest any such thing. Her mannerisms make it easy to trust her, he finds. And besides, she has a different kind of smile when she says she’s fine and he can easily tell that she is not by how long she waits before trying to rise. He did the same thing when he got himself tangled in vines and didn’t want to ask for help. Despite his hesitance, though, he still wanted someone to lend a hand.
Crowns gives a small nod at her question and he can’t help but laugh at the confession. Only Eight really knew of his love of the dark. It feels strange to actually voice such things to someone who may understand just what he means.
Truthfully, he’s grateful for the change of subject when she asks if he is a healer. He has never considered himself anything of the sort, of course, but he is glad to help others. Sometimes that means just spending time with them or, in Olena’s case, lightening the load for a while.
“I can be, I guess. I can do lots of stuff,” he explains with a shrug as though it isn’t at all interesting. He grows bashful beneath her gaze and he finds his cheeks grow warm if he looks into her eyes too long. The boy averts his eyes and focuses on the way the water flows between his legs when it becomes too much like staring into the sun when he looks at her. One of his hooves idly nudges a smooth river stone as she compliments him once more, speaking all the words he’d like to hear.
“Most scary things are nice, I think. They’ve never hurt me,” he explains as he lifts his sapphire eyes to hers once more. “Everyone’s just afraid because they don’t understand. They don’t see what I see.”
If he minds any of this, he doesn’t show it. He just smiles and continues letting the current flow his healing to her.
Crowns gives a small nod at her question and he can’t help but laugh at the confession. Only Eight really knew of his love of the dark. It feels strange to actually voice such things to someone who may understand just what he means.
Truthfully, he’s grateful for the change of subject when she asks if he is a healer. He has never considered himself anything of the sort, of course, but he is glad to help others. Sometimes that means just spending time with them or, in Olena’s case, lightening the load for a while.
“I can be, I guess. I can do lots of stuff,” he explains with a shrug as though it isn’t at all interesting. He grows bashful beneath her gaze and he finds his cheeks grow warm if he looks into her eyes too long. The boy averts his eyes and focuses on the way the water flows between his legs when it becomes too much like staring into the sun when he looks at her. One of his hooves idly nudges a smooth river stone as she compliments him once more, speaking all the words he’d like to hear.
“Most scary things are nice, I think. They’ve never hurt me,” he explains as he lifts his sapphire eyes to hers once more. “Everyone’s just afraid because they don’t understand. They don’t see what I see.”
If he minds any of this, he doesn’t show it. He just smiles and continues letting the current flow his healing to her.