Re: Third Class ; Dining
The sound of the promise, made so fervently, warmed something inside of him that hadn't been touched in a long while. He couldn't remember everything that he was, his name or what made him him in the past, but something told him that he hadn't been a person many would have been this close to. So this was something special that he wanted to hold onto for as long as he could. Connection: it was a precious thing.
"I promise that I'll look," he said, the corner of his mouth lifting in a rare smile. "I can reach out to you after this? When things go back to normal?" Because he knew they would, he knew that much. He was still himself, after all, a mask pulled in place that fogged the edges of his perception, but he knew enough to know that this would come to an end eventually. All good things did, it seemed.
The lost boy grew quiet as she explained the people from her world, the warriors, the ones that could be scary, and he listened intently, capturing every word and committing it to memory. "Good and bad in every world, it seems, no matter where we are from." The words were sad, mournful in a way, and as she took the hand that he offered her, fingers sliding between his in a grip that was far less hesitant than he had been expecting, the lost boy looked up, meeting her gaze.
There was a hard swallow, a tip of his head, an exhaled breath. "Would you still hold my hand if you knew who I was truly?" he asked, glancing up, hooded eyes concealing.