The Many Faces of Kai

Chapter 10

By Dabeagle

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Kai

I am such a fucking mess.

I don't know if my mom could ever have forgiven me. I don't know if I can ever really forgive myself. I don't think I can. I think the best I can do is carry the weight and try to never do something so terrible again.

Lys made it better. Like I wasn't carrying it by myself. That was stupid, of course. My dad had been there for me, and I never stopped to ask myself who was there for my dad. But here I was, letting Lys comfort me. I felt so...grounded when he put his hand over mine, just letting me know he was there. Then he gave me another awkward hug, and I think I leaned into him a little. I needed it. I don't know if I deserved it, but I needed it.

The pictures were...painful, in some ways, but mostly I told Lys about my family through them. I told him where each was taken, things about them if I could remember. Yeah, it hurt, because a lot of it was lost, but there was something worth pulling close to me, too.

Like Lys.

I hadn't said anything to my counselor or my dad. Hell, I was struggling with admitting anything to myself. I'm not sure I really understand it, and I don't want to fuck with Lys's feelings; my own are fucked enough for us both. I wasn't sure if I was just confusing him being there for me for something else. Plus...it made me angry, sometimes. I didn't want to be gay or bi or have any of these confusing things running in my head, but I also had to wonder how much of that was my old town and people there and how things went with my mom. If I was going to learn from it all, shouldn't I figure that shit out?

The whole thing had been making me anxious, and my counselor had put me on a low dose of medication. He said it's very gentle and just helps to even things out and was a short-term thing while I worked through some things. I liked the idea of short-term. It means I might figure things out, maybe not that far away from it even.

I was tired after the pictures and the crying and my general weak-ass bullshit, so when Lys asked if I wanted to stay over, I agreed. I knew my dad would see it as a breakthrough or something and probably have some kind of smug look about it somehow, but I didn't care. For a moment I was worn out and happy where I was.

In the morning, I helped clean up a little, and then his mom took us out to breakfast. It was nice, but his mom was complaining about how she should be the executor of her parents' estate and how she'd be talking to them about it. I don't know what the big deal was, but Lys told her they weren't senile, and they made a decision. Besides, he'd reasoned, why would she want the work? She'd probably be devastated when her parents passed.

He dropped me off at home, and I took a shower and then sought my dad out.

“Hey, there he is,” he said with a tired smile. “I didn't sleep well last night. Too much gravy, I suppose.”

“It was the spicy penne you made. You know that happens every year,” I reminded him.

“Eh.” He lowered his voice and smiled. “But it was so good!”

I chuckled. “It was,” I agreed. Although it had rattled around in my head, I was a little surprised when I spit out my thought. “Listen. Do you think...mom would have ever forgiven me? For how I acted?”

He looked at me for a moment as if he were thinking. “You know, she was in a lot of pain. I think she was in more pain than I knew of before that whole thing happened. I know she felt bad that you were so angry – and I think you had some right, from your perspective.”

“But-”

“Look. You're almost a legal adult. You want me to talk to you like you're an adult?”

I cleared my throat and nodded my head.

“Okay. Well, could you have handled it better? Sure. I'm sure I said things that weren't great either. Should any of it have happened? No. Ideally, no.” He sighed. “I think, in the end, if we'd had more time, we'd have done what we'd done before. We'd have come together as a family, and we'd have gotten through it. Sure, we might have moved away from that nest of assholes. I've never met a group of humans that made me question the idea of faith in humanity quite so well.” He fixed me with a look. “But you have to accept a few things, even if you think they are copouts right now.”

He was quiet long enough that I prompted him. “Like what?”

“Like you were a dick sometimes. Like you were – and are – still just a kid with a developing brain who got put into a meat-grinder of a situation and seems to be beating himself up for not having been a saint. I don't know if you know this, but saints fucked up, too. Some of them became saints after revelations. Enormous realizations about having fucked up.” He pointed at me. “You did some fucking up. You're doing some learning and holding yourself accountable. Had your mom stayed with us, had she not ended her pain and caused so much more from it, yes. She'd have forgiven you. Because you'd eventually be where you are right now. You'd be holding yourself accountable and able to look at this with a new perspective. You understand more than you did then, so you're not the same person you were even then.”

I swallowed. “Really? That's what you think?”

He made a fist and put it over his heart. “It's what I believe, Kai.”

I let out a breath and nodded. “I. Uh. I shared my pictures with Lys last night. Kind of wore me out, but...I think I needed it.”

He smiled crookedly. “He's become a really good friend to you. Someone you can talk to.”

I nodded. “I told him. Everything. Hurt some. He...he's a good person.”

He looked at me, again I think he was being thoughtful. “Yeah. I think you're right.” He chuckled. “You know sometimes we have this innate ability to identify the people that are right for us and wrong for us. I think you kids say you get a bad vibe – it's our intuition warning us. Our gut, as we used to say.” He smiled again. “What sort of vibe do you get from Lys?”

I cleared my throat. “A confusing one,” I admitted.

He nodded slowly. “I wondered. I think you should take it slow. Be open, but hold yourself accountable as well.”

I swallowed. “Yeah. I was kind of thinking that, too.”

He smiled gently. “I think that's a good thing. I think this is a good thing.”

Maybe.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Life got colder, with the snow my dad promised, some freezing rain, but besides that went on largely unchanged. I hung out with Lys, Kent and Shell. We hit the winter break and spent a few days in a friend group, just hanging out and doing stuff. We'd worked pretty hard putting sets together, but we also had fun with the other crew members. It was like...sharing something with them, sort of like the feeling you can get on a good team of any kind. I hadn't expected that when the shows started we'd be running out there on the dark stage to move things around – but we had some fun with it. With the play being over, I'd focused on finding a job – getting one at a local big box store – and borrowing my dad's car whenever Lys couldn't come get me. I started giving him gas money, which I should have before. When I realized Shell was, I kind of kicked myself.

I can't say I spent every free minute thinking about the situation, but I can say I thought about it a lot. Lys. How I felt. How that fit into my life and who I thought I was. I wanted to be honest, starting with myself. I had to, as my dad had said, hold myself accountable. I think my mom would have wanted it for me, and more importantly I think I needed to do it for myself.

So here it goes. I like Lys. I mean I like Lys.

Okay, Okay. I need to get a little deeper into this whole like thing. It makes me nervous. I don't like the whole gay or bi or pan ideas. I never had a thought, that I can think of, about those sorts of things and I'm not sure I'm ready to look for a label. I think I need to take things one block at a time and look at each block in 3-D. Bottom, top, sides, front, back. Make sure I understand as best I can and move to the next block. First thing is I like Lys.

He makes me feel...well, that's it. He makes me feel. After my mom died, I think parts of me went numb. I think my strategy to stay under the radar at school was some real bullshitting of myself to try and keep from moving forward. Maybe I wasn't ready yet. Maybe it had been too raw. Maybe the accountability part would have broken me. Maybe I needed something besides what my dad was giving me, because your parents, if they're worth a shit, always try to support you – even if it's holding you accountable.

Maybe especially.

So yeah. I'd been kind of numb inside. In my head, my heart, my brain. Lys makes me feel. It's not always a good feeling. That's not on him. Sometimes it just feels...out of control. It can be exciting, and it can be scary and sometimes just overwhelming. It's almost like learning how to feel. Not like I did before; I wasn't that person anymore. I was still flawed, but I know about being flawed now. Before I was too stupid. For a while all I could see was my flaws. Now...I'm learning to live with them.

So yeah, block one was he made me feel. I guess block two was how did I feel about being made to feel by a guy. That was more complicated. At first because I kind of fought the idea, but then I had to figure out if any of this was what I was worried it was or suspected it was. Lys had hugged me twice, and both times were important. I wanted that affection. I wanted to feel wanted and...and...well, maybe that was it? I just needed to be valued – to feel valued, really.

I know Lys cares about me. We've gotten really close. We hang out way more since Thanksgiving, and after the play wrapped we started getting into each other's hobbies. He bought a model, and we worked on it at my house, and we made jigs to help him build and shelves for his room. We went for coffee just to hang out. We texted a lot. Sometimes he'd send me a random note about something he’d noticed in one of the pictures in my folder and...I don't know how to say it.

But those things don't really translate to the whole gay, bi, hump water buffalo kinds of things. I had to keep reminding myself I wasn't there yet. I didn't have to be. But if I liked the affection, did he? He wasn't dating, and he'd said most of his experience was drunk guys who would make out when their inhibitions were down, or like that one douche that lost a bet or something.

Of course, not everything was great. I could still get pretty angry, but a lot was directed at myself. I still did physical things to cope, but more and more I just reached out to Lys. He made it clear he was always there for me, and I made him prove it a few times. I mean, not intentionally, but just because I'm me. Late night or early morning texts. Some long talks about certain pictures or...sometimes it was just talking. Sometimes, even the best times, there wasn't any talking. I could just be myself, in my own skin, and Lys didn't expect anything of me other than to be me.

So I needed a plan. Some idea of how to figure out what the next block was. I thought about it off and on through January, and I had an idea, but I didn't want to be influenced by all the Valentine's bullshit, so I waited until the day after. Lys and I were over at the store I worked at, picking through the half price candy, and I suggested we go for coffee.

“I could use one,” he said with a yawn to punctuate the statement. “There was this boom last night and then the power went out – heat included of course – and I couldn't get back to sleep. My room was freezing. They got the power on about eight thirty in the morning, but there was no hot water yet, so. Ugh.”

“That sucks.” I waited a beat. “Did any of your boogers freeze inside your nose?”

He laughed. “Actually, I think they did.”

“That is one thing I hate about winter up here,” I said as we walked to the register. “I'm outside shoveling, breathing in the ice cold air...but my nose is running. Like, it should be frozen up there, but then it hits my upper lip and it's all nasty, and I just don't understand. Why is my nose running?”

Lys laughed loudly. “You'd think it'd freeze on your lip, but nope!”

We dropped our bags in his car and walked across the parking lot to the coffee shop we preferred and ordered up. We made some small talk while we waited and then grabbed our order and headed for the seating area. We usually try to grab these chairs that look comfier than they really are, but this time I steered us toward a two-seater table.

I took my coat off and hung it on the back of my chair before sitting. Lys just sat down and unzipped his coat. I shifted on my chair, my heart beating like a drummer on a solo.

“Hey, so I wanted to try something, but I kind of need your help.”

Lys smiled as he took a sip. “If it means we can aggravate Shell again, I'm in.”

I smiled nervously. “I don't think she'll be involved,” I said, stalling. “But what I need...I need to try something, but I may...maybe can't talk about it right away.”

Lys looked at me with amused confusion. “Okay, like that made sense. Whatever, though. What do you want me to do?”

Yep. He was in. I didn't even have to go into details. I just said I need something from him, and he's ready.

“Put your hand out here,” I said, pointing to the table.

He chuckled and put his hand on the table. “Now what?”

I cleared my throat. “Now just...don't move. Don't talk for like...a minute.”

He raised his eyebrows at me, but I tried to focus. It was harder than you might think, even if it wasn't a big thing, not compared to just about anything else. I let out a breath and reached out for his hand, placing mine on top of his. I waited a beat and then turned his hand over palm up and placed mine in his, curling my hand to hold his fingers in mine.

“Kai.”

“Shh.”

I was staring at my hand in his; or really just our fingers curled together. My heart was still hammering away. I was trying to process the feeling in real time. It wasn't easy, because I was nervous as all hell. I squeezed his fingers just a bit, and he responded, holding my hand lightly. I closed my eyes and tried to just...feel the moment. His hand was soft. Of course, I knew that – it's not special. But then again, it was. I curled my fingers a bit and felt the backs of his fingers against my palm. I reached around in my head, looking for something, for the feelings I'd been struggling with. But despite my heart hammering, despite my breathing, I wasn't scared. I was at...an excited peace. Even now that doesn't really make sense to me, but it's the best I've got.

I opened my eyes, my heart slowing down and my breathing feeling a bit more normal, and just looked at my hand in his. It was a connection. It went deeper than hand holding, but right now it was something. Something good.

I glanced up at him. “Sorry,” I said and started to pull my hand back, but he tightened his grip.

“I'm good,” he said, and smiled a little.

Something moved in my chest. Some...weight. I pressed my lips together and smiled a bit back at him.

“So. What does this mean?” Lys asked gently.

“I'm still figuring it out,” I said honestly, a tremor I didn't appreciate in my voice. My chest felt like it was shaking all of a sudden, like I was cold.

He nodded. “Okay.”

“I can stop-”

“No,” he said and shook his head slowly. “It's all good.”

I nodded slowly. “Okay,” I said, almost unable to get the word out as my throat tried to close up and swallow it.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

I talked to my counselor about holding Lys's hand. I told him about how I’m not sure what my feelings really are, and he agreed that defining who I was to myself was worth doing. We talked about how I felt around Lys, how my emotions were so mixed with confusion, caring, peace and a lack of control. He asked how other parts of my life were doing, given that this was such a focus for me. Remarkably, he didn't mean my grades or anything like that.

I told him I still felt anxious, partly because I wasn't sure of myself and didn't want to screw up with Lys, but also that I wanted to keep myself open to figuring that out. He advised me to be honest with Lys about my feelings and to be prepared for him to not want to play his part in that kind of journey.

“Self-discovery is important, but some people are farther along in their development of a certain path in their life, and they may not want to, as they perceive it, go back. There is also that, while Lysander might be willing to see where this goes, he also has feelings and expectations and hopes. There is a real possibility that one or both of you will get hurt.”

I frowned. “Are you saying this is a bad idea?”

“Not at all. I'm saying that you want to go in with open eyes and be honest with yourself and him.” He shifted on his chair. “You talked about Lysander early on in our sessions. At first, he was someone you were angry with, and then you gradually moved into him being a schoolmate, and then you crossed into friendship. Your pace with this relationship developing has been measured and cautious. I think that has served you well. At this stage you feel, it seems, that Lysander is someone who you care for – quite a lot – and who is likely still attracted to you. Right now, you're trying to figure out if your feelings include attraction, and I think you have to make as honest an assessment of that as you can.”

That was an interesting point, I thought. I mean, I didn't right away, but I did think about it. Yeah, Lys made me feel good. I wanted more of it. I liked holding his hand, but what about the rest? I thought about his hair and his eyes and...I mean, yeah, he was nice to look at. I'd held his hand, but we hadn't done something like kissing. I hadn't even thought about that.

But now that I have, I can't not think about it. What would it be like? But that question just scrapes the surface. After the hand holding experiment, we kept trying it. Quiet places where it was just us, but still. It grew to be more comfortable, but also it made me worried. I had to explain to Lys that I wasn't ready for everyone in the world to comment on who or what he and I were. I didn't want a spotlight turned on me, and that's what happens in school.

Lys got it. He said if I were sure of myself but wanting to keep him like some sort of thing I was ashamed of, he'd say no. But he understood where I was coming from, and he was willing. In fact he said a friend of his had told him once about how important the smaller things were – hugs and cuddles, as opposed to the whole dating and sex thing.

That also set me to thinking. In a way it lined up really well with with my idea about blocks – building blocks, maybe. I'd accepted I had feelings to sort out about Lys. I'd crossed a line with the hand holding. I'd accepted I liked holding his hand, and I already knew I'd liked his awkward hugs. Was I just starved for affection, or was it more?

By the middle of March Lys decided he needed to talk to me. He came over after work, and we were just hanging out in my room. He was sitting cross-legged on the edge of my bed, and I was just getting us drinks when he told me he wanted to talk.

“Uh, okay,” I said, handing him a drink and sitting on my desk chair.

“You know I'm down with this thing you're figuring out between us,” he said. “But I do want to talk about...like, how that's going.”

“Oh. Okay. Uh. How do you think it's going?”

“Not me, you idiot. You!”

“I didn't make a video-”

“Kai, I will hurt you.”

I made an exaggerated shrug. “I thought you wanted to tell me how you thought it was going!”

He tilted his head and lifted his chin. “Okay. You already knew I was into you, but I'll admit...I was happy with our friendship. I like the idea that you want to figure things out and that I'm the one you want to do that with. But...is it me? Would you be just as happy to figure it out with Vin Geritsen?”

I frowned. “No. It's you.”

“Okay. So...how are you feeling so far?”

I sipped from my drink and turned in my chair from side to side. “I'm good. This is good.” I looked at him. “Look, my thing right now is I don't want to screw with you or your feelings. I know I told you I'm trying to get a handle on shit, and I'm really thinking about it. I'm trying to take things one small piece at a time, trying to make sure I understand who I am and what I'm doing. I'm also trying to make sure I'm honest and fair with you, because I don't want to hurt you, either.”

He nodded a couple of times. “Okay. I get what you're saying, and I'm good with that. It'd be nice if you could, you know, do that a little more. I don't mean talk about it all the time, but...I don't know. We've been holding hands a few weeks and – I'll be honest – I love it. Chillin' and listening to music and just lying back and holding your hand is pretty sweet, not going to lie.”

I smiled, pushing my mouth to one side. “Yeah. I like that, too.”

He smiled lightly. “I just kind of wanted to know that. I mean, it can't all be about me and stuff.”

I rubbed my mouth and jaw, fussing with my chin a moment before deciding to take a small risk. I put my drink on my desk and stood. I reached over and pulled him by his elbow, and he laughed a little as he got to his feet.

“Okay, this is kind of for you. You're awkward about this, so I have to see if you get any better,” I told him.

He gave me a confused expression, and I stepped into him, wrapping him in my arms. There wasn't even a second of hesitation as he encircled me and put his chin on my shoulder. Ah. Oh, shit. He felt so nice. So warm and comfortable and-

“Hey!” I hollered as he pivoted and shoved me back so I flopped on my side on my mattress. He climbed after me and shoved me, so I pushed him back, and we tangled for a minute before he pushed me down and cuddled into my side with his head on my shoulder.

“I was awkward because they were emotional moments where I just had to hug you. Jerk,” he grumbled and pulled me tightly to him. I rolled a bit and slipped an arm under him. Okay, not going to be entirely comfortable while still keeping an arm attached, but I could get into this.

“Well. They were awkward, but still good,” I reassured him.

Lys tilted his head and looked at me. “Now that we've hugged, am I good with saying we're going to be able to hug in private? Like...no going back?”

My throat tried to close up a little. “No,” I choked out. “No going back.” To be honest, this was better. I liked the hug and probably could have chilled like that for a while, but I'd started to brick up a little, and I was afraid he'd feel that. This way, it was not so easy to tell. It was a contact brick up, not like I was suddenly thinking about sex.

Except, of course, now I kind of was. Deep breath, Kai. One brick – block! – at a time. I put some music on, and we just lay together, kind of cuddled, kind of hugging, and we talked about things that weren't us. I was thinking about doing Lacrosse, and he said he'd come watch the games. He said his grandparents wanted him to come for the week in April when we got spring break and were asking if I was coming. I said I really would like to go, and we should figure that stuff out with my dad.

Lys pulled back a bit and propped his head up on his hand, looking down at me. “So. I have to ask – no pressure – I just am trying to understand how this works with us.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you were ready to try holding hands. Today you're ready to hug, and I guess I kind of forced you to cuddle, but I feel like that's hug adjacent and almost the same thing.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess I can see the logic.”

He bit his lower lip for a second, and my heart beat twice in the same second. “It's okay if you say no, but...I really want to kiss you right now.”

Wow. Okay, so here it is. If I was bricked before, this was going to put me in an awkward spot because...hello? In bed and kissing and...he looked so good. I mean he is good, but I was seeing something else. Was it just hormones and being in the moment?

“Okay. Well. Come here then,” I said, not really thinking anything through and sounding way more confident than I felt.

The edges of his eyes crinkled a bit, and he leaned forward. Oh, yeah. He was good at this. I tightened my grip on him, and his body pressed into mine, and that kiss got turned up to eleven. I was aware of his hardness pressed to my hip, but it was secondary to the feeling of holding him close and the way our lips moved together. He put his hand on the side of my face, and I tightened my grip on him – and I was lost. I was somewhere else, disconnected from reality. Kai the anxious, worried, sad, dead inside guy was checked out, while this Kai – happy, cared for, wanted and probably horny – was getting properly kissed.

I'd had my fair share, I think, of kisses, and this one had them all beat to hell. I know those girls who'd kissed me – and who I'd kissed back – we'd wanted to, but Lys was on a different level. Lys was...maybe making a statement. Maybe showing me what I could have, if it's what I wanted. I was thinking I both wanted and needed what Lys offered.

I think I needed and wanted Lys.

And then his tongue met mine. I pulled him closer, and he wiggled on top of me, one leg sliding between mine, and if we weren't making out before, we were now. I really wish I could use some big words or some poetry about this, but it was just smoking hot. Lying there with him spread out on me, feeling him pressed into me – and there was no way he didn't feel that brick in my pants. The heat of his body, the smell of him and the raw feelings both in my chest and at every place where we touched – all of it was too much and not enough.

He leaned back a bit, breaking our kiss.

“Don't stop,” I said, out of breath.

He chuckled and ran his hand across the side of my face, cupping my cheek. “I was just going to ask if you're okay.”

“I was. Come back here,” I said. He grinned, and we went back at it. I'd like to tell you more about March, but it's the only thing that stands out. We kissed a lot. When we weren't kissing, we were cuddling and watching TV shows or going out for coffee or working a hobby together. Not that I didn't have some anxiety when I was alone with my thoughts, when I lay awake trying to sleep at night and feelings that I'd felt about my mother and the whole gay thing and what I was doing all collided in my head. But it was mostly good. It got to the point that Shell started calling us out for not hanging around with her.

That is where I saw the problem. I always read that the first step is admitting there is a problem, and there was one. I couldn't get enough of Lys. There was no way I could keep a lid on this, not forever – and it wasn't fair to him or me that I had to. I felt like I had to, but I also felt angry at having to even think about telling other people just because I didn't want to deal with anyone else's crap. But to be honest, part of me didn't care anymore. I wasn't sure I wanted to deal with the labels and the 'So are you gay now?' questions that were just way too invasive. I just wanted Lys, and that was almost all I cared about.

That didn't go unnoticed.

“So. I can't help but notice that Lys has been around a lot lately,” my dad said to me while I was trying – and failing – to study for a science test.

“Yeah?” I asked, picking up my iced tea and gulping from it.

He leaned in my doorway. “You know I support you getting friends and working on you. I just wonder...are you and Lys....?”

I pushed my tongue around for a moment. “More than friends,” I stated.

My dad waited a beat. “And how do you feel about that?”

I looked at him, holding his gaze. “I'm taking it one little step at a time. I really struggled to get where I am, and I'm not ready for any labels or...stuff like that. I like him. He's important to me. I care about him. He feels the same way, and we're still figuring out what to do with that.”

He nodded his head a couple of times. “I think that's very smart of you. I hope you're talking to him and your counselor.” He paused and looked down before meeting my gaze again. “I can understand why you may not want to talk to me about it. But I'm here if you-”

“It's not that,” I said, rolling the bottle between my hands. “It's...it's been really hard to go from where I started about Lys to the way I feel now. Really hard, Dad. When I first met him, I was so mad about Mom and the gay thing, and I was ready to blame him for...anything. For looking at me and wishing I were gay, maybe. I've had to do a ton of thinking and a ton of...figuring things out.

“What I can tell you is...” I shook my head. “I've never felt this good. It's been a long time. I really just wanted to...hold this in my hand for a minute. I know it's going to change. Everything about Lys has, every time. First I didn't want to know him. That changed. Then I was happy just talking sometimes, and that changed. Then we got to be friends, and that changed. Now we're...more than friends, and I know that's going to change, too. I just want to hold onto this for a minute before it does.” I licked my lips. “And sometimes it feels like the more you talk about it, the less precious it is. The faster it's going to change and...and right now I've just got Lys on my mind all the time.”

He smiled then. It wasn't one of amusement, but rather...peaceful. Proud of me. “I think that's incredibly wise of you. Hold every bit of happiness as closely as you can. It always helps you get through the harder times.”

“Is that what got you through...mom?”

His smile changed, a sadder one. “I had you.”

“But...I was a dick.”

“Well, yeah,” he said and laughed. “But you were in pain. You'd never had to deal with something like what we went through, and to be fair, not many people have, I don't think. It was too much, and we'd never prepared you for something like that.” He shrugged. “You do the best you can. But I'm hopeful, now. You seem to remember how to be happy, and I guess maybe Lys showed you the way back.” He pushed off from the doorway and crossed to me, leaning over and kissing my hair. “I'm grateful to him.”

After he left I texted Lys, telling him how my dad knew about...whatever we were. At least more than friends. He video called me, and I answered right away.

“You're okay?” he asked, looking at me with a little bit of a worried expression.

I smiled at him. “Yeah. I'm good.”

His expression shifted, and he smiled back. “I like it when you smile. I like your face. I'm really proud of you.”




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