"You're a good boy too, Wren," Aiden said quietly. He didn't pull his sleeve away from those questing fingers, though, and his eyes gazed at the boy beside him. "You're allowed to have presents. You've been very good this year."
God, his heart always broke dealing with Wren; it was like having a child, a special-needs one that you had to find exactly the right key to open their heart to you. His own ached in his chest and he swallowed, stroked Wren's hair with the back of abraded knuckles.
"I got you presents because I love you. So you think you don't deserve for me to love you?" he asked gently, turning sad eyes to Wren.