[ the weight of an anchor was meant to ground, securely— and it’s what falco feels just as they approach the home’s stairs and door. before the boy reaches to turn the knob, a small hand, delicate even, rises to meet the other’s firming hold. with it came falco’s gaze, growing with gratitude and admiration— the amount of energy from a single gesture . . . ]
I’d love to, Mister Paul. [ if he could give back in any way, he’d put his heart into it and make his stay not just a simple occupation of space. the door is open, and after a brief peer in to make sure everything is in place, falco welcomes them in. ] Why until next month?
[ there had been something about that, “only until next month”. why not sooner? something had to be keeping him from occupying a home when he wanted. ]
Are you expecting something?
[ it’s an offhandedly made comment that falco had only considered because of it being the closest thing that made sense to him: waiting for an item, for a person.
he hadn’t a single notion of the gravity of this “something”, and works to grab a small stack of wooden plates from the living room pantry while awaiting an answer he thought would be a simple yes or no. ]
no subject
I’d love to, Mister Paul. [ if he could give back in any way, he’d put his heart into it and make his stay not just a simple occupation of space. the door is open, and after a brief peer in to make sure everything is in place, falco welcomes them in. ] Why until next month?
[ there had been something about that, “only until next month”. why not sooner? something had to be keeping him from occupying a home when he wanted. ]
Are you expecting something?
[ it’s an offhandedly made comment that falco had only considered because of it being the closest thing that made sense to him: waiting for an item, for a person.
he hadn’t a single notion of the gravity of this “something”, and works to grab a small stack of wooden plates from the living room pantry while awaiting an answer he thought would be a simple yes or no. ]