"Very good," Valentin said, filling the bowls with fresh water. For this, he used a tap lower to the ground, one that didn't came with a sink. They would be using it later, attaching the hose to it and spraying the floor before mopping it.
"There's this author, William Faulkner," Valentin mused. The metallic sounds the water made against the bowl were almost musical. "In one of his books, there's a character who doesn't believe in words. She believes that words are just shapes we use, hopeless little things that we wield to fill a lack. She believes that things like love, kindness and honesty are felt and seen, but not said. I think it works like that too."
Valentin hadn't noticed when their elbows had brushed, but he did notice Caleb's crooked grin when it was shot his way. He quickly looked down. "You're better at cars than me, so I think I will," he said. "You're, like, a car whisperer."