[Sorry if it's weird. I'm all sick and dumb.]
Life seemed to have become a series of breakdowns, semi recoveries, then more breakdowns. Things were better, at the moment, but Dietre still didn't feel that he was standing on any thing remotely close to stable ground. Thankfully he had been given at least one little handhold to cling to, even if it was in the form of a tiny, mewling scrap of fur.
God, did he love that cat. From the moment he first held it in his hands and felt it purr, Dietre was head over heels. The amount of attention he showered on the kitten only showed how desperately lonely the boy was. He had needed something to love, and to be loved by, and already it seemed that having a pet was doing some good. Though Dietre never seemed to sleep at night, he could now be found taking naps during the day, though they tended to be in odd places, like the living room floor in the warm sunny squares under the windows, always with the kitten curled up on his chest. And he didn't hole himself up in his room as much anymore, but joined Francis for meals (though they tended to be silent and awkward), and sometimes it was like he was following the man around, almost. He kept his distance, but lately it seemed like he was trying to always be in the same room. He'd be doing his own thing of course, reading, homework, writing out sheet music...but still.
Dietre passed by the kitchen a few times, but when he ran out of the made up reasons he told himself as to why he needed to walk by, he caved and slunk shyly in. His view of Francis had begun to change, mostly due to being suddenly allowed to have his kitten, and somehow Dietre felt a growing compulsion to be near him. Just watching the man satisfied the need, normally, but he was in a strange mood today. Maybe it was because he had spoken to Gloriana on the journals. He had never been so relieved.
The boy stood awkwardly by the fridge for a moment before he finally spoke.