Sunday's with an Angel (Angelo)

Terrifed.

Kimber was utterly terrifed.

She still remembered. That feeling. The feeling of the email that came up on her computer only the day before yesterday. The little envelope with his name beside it. Angelo. The man from the park. The one in the suit. The one so interested in her music. The way that she saw the world. There he was. They had exchanged information. And she never thought, ever, that she would get an email. Especially, not one asking her for time.

Time with him. Time out. Time in the sunlight. On a normal sunny day. He wanted to meet at the park. A place where they could sit out, enjoy a picnic. Enjoy fresh food. Food that he was bringing apparently. They had a quick conversation. A back and forth of email. The ease of conversation was so misleading. Because without being able to do that... sending messages, she would probably find the horror of miscommunication. Or the lack of patience that most had when it came to her.

Kimber slid her computer into the bag that she intended to take with her. The small computer would wirelessly connect to a set of speakers. It would allow her a short time to talk. It would probably not last more than a couple hours. Before she would have to revert to writing in her notepad. But at least, there would be something a little easier about this exchange. She hoped that he would want to learn sign language, if anything were to be..

But she was getting ahead of herself. Desperatly, ahead of herself.

Kimber left, her place, there behind. She walked. There was no reason to take the bus or the train. She liked to walk. She had left a while before she was to meet him. A while so that she could have time. Time to cool down. Her outfit was super cute, and she felt that it was not over done. Her hair was down though she wore a small rhinestoned flower in her hair. On the right side of her face. And she had a band in her purse if she got hot she could pull her hair up.

Kimber was always prepped because it was so hard for her to communciate to the outside world. Hard to communicate to people that would not stop to give her any time. So she tried to have everything she needed, when she needed it. The park was busy. But not too busy. There were children playing. People talking and laughing. Couples walking. Kimber got herself to the meeting place.

A bench. Settled in the shade. Under a tree. She placed her bag down. Too nervous to sit down, she paced slowly in front of the bench. Back and forth. Hands wringing in front of her. The tiny girl was so worried. So shocked that he wanted her around anyway. She hoped that. Maybe. He would like being around her and.. maybe.. maybe they could at least be friends. She would love to have a friend. She would really love to have more. But Kimber had never held her breath for such things.

Late. Of all the times, of all the days, of all the moments to endure the inevitable walk of shame that occurs when one is shamefully past the allotted time of meeting, the universe seemed to conspire to make this particular occasion one for the record books. Fortunately, he had carried with him the necessary implements with which to make a passable picnic. Admittedly, said choice was a toss up between grilled cheese or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, but it was one he took the time and energy to make the right way. In between filing reports on the activities of several groups currently under investigation, Angelo took the time to carefully, precisely apply his culinary talents to the task of preparing their picnic. The sandwiches, he grilled, using a particularly creative mix of his flames and a stovetop grill. The others were given a dash of smooth peanut butter, and a more voluminous application of some of his good grape jelly. The two flavors should balance each other out well enough, he figured. His timing was none too shabby, for a person performing two very different tasks. Each pair of sandwiches was sliced cleanly along the diagonal with a sharp knife, and then wrapped in plastic. He stowed them gently inside the wicker picnic basket, nestled in the folds of the plain blue blanket beside two bottles of water and orange juice. And then he was off, running through the office doors with only a waved goodbye to the desk staff.

The park came into sight, the crowds and bustle of the street relatively active. They parted as he moved past, the sedate charcoal suit, finely polished black patent leather shoes, and soft copper silk tie commanding enough of the masses' attention to inspire them to avoid bumping into him. After all, the well dressed gentleman in a hurry looked rather important. His hair had been lightly combed on the way out of the office, though by the time he entered the sweeping entrance of the park, taking in a deep breath of the fresh Sunday air, it had returned to it's usual more disorganized state. Angelo laughed softly, the realization that perhaps he had been trying a little too hard to make a good impression settling in. Their conversation via email had well, however, and he still harbored a fascination with the young woman that made such an impression on him earlier. It was still worth it to press on, and perhaps they would still have the same quality of conversation. A part of him wondered if they'd spend the day writing. Strangely, he didn't seem to feel any apprehension at that. She was silent, but that hardly barred her from being someone he wanted to talk to, in any shape or form that conversation took.

He straightened up, and walked through the gates. Cool blue-green eyes, perceptive, and unusually reflective, drank in the surroundings with aplomb. The park was none too crowded at this time, though he expected there to be more people as they left church services or came from visiting friends. The lush grass, which appeared to shiver in the wind, smelled fragrant and fresh, as if it had been cut recently. The trees shook gently in the breeze, and he caught, out of the corner of his eye, a lithe figure pacing back and forth beneath the shade. Angelo smiled. She was there, and his keen eyesight noted that she seemed to be sporting a new-- yet still pink-- outfit. Well, mostly the skirt and the flower, but it was enough to make her stand out like a lonesome, sandstone statue. She was wringing his hands, turning in his direction when he started towards her, wings furled at his back like a glossy black cloak that glimmered in the sunlight behind him. "I'd like to apologize for being so late-- things at the office were a little hectic today," Angelo began, tendering his apology with the winsome, wry smile that came naturally to him. "I did, however, manage to make a decent set of sandwiches," he added, bringing the wicker basket securely locked within the confines of his left hand up as proof. "So, what would you like to do, Miss Grace?"AJ inquired, bowing ever so slightly to show his openness to her directions. After all, she was the lady of the day.

She turned.

Wind blew through her hair. Lifting the soft pale blonde locks. Floating them on the wind before it lost it's power. And it floated almost magjestically back down to her back. And then there he was. A suit again. And she was glad that for the most part. She tended to dress nicely. It was rare, extremely so, to see Kimber in anything less than something nice. Even at the park, the other day. When she had met Seinshun and Angelo, she had worn something nice. Casual yes, but nice. Today she had stepped it up a little bit. And when she was on stage, it would be even more.

But still.

She froze.

He moved with an easy grace. He seemed comfortable in his skin. Something that she felt was.. like magic.She knew that. Walking was not magic. But maybe it was just that.. she was so surprised that he had shown up at all. The basket in his hand. Suit on. Fitted nicely. She wondered, curiously, if he had them made for himself. It seemed that would be the case. As well as they fit.

He appologized. Causing a blush to rush to her cheeks. She gave a weak smile. Shaking her head. Hands held outward. So hopefully he would know, she was not angry. Was he late? She had not been watching the time. Normally, she might have. Kimber was Queen of Punctuality. However, it didn't matter. He could have been a little later and she would not have known. Time flies when you're freaking out.

He motioned to the basket, that contained their lunch and she smiled. Giving a nod. Sometimes she wished she felt more comfortable in her own skin. Because, it would be nice, to show how excited she was. Hug him, or something. But she was too shy, and most people didn't like the silence that came with the touching of her skin. He asked what she wanted to do and she turned, motioning to the trail, she figured they could walk and find a good spot for the picnic and then they could talk.

As she picked up her purse she got out her pen and paper. Because that was going to be the easiest way to talk to him while they were walking. She wrote as they walked. Hair playing in the breeze. But again, nothing about her made a single noise. Not her footsteps on the ground, not the skirt swishing against her hips, not the pencil on the paper or any of that. It was eerily silent. One of the many reasons people didn't hang around her much.

~How has work been? What have you been up to since we last saw each other?~

He had to admit, she looked pretty standing in under the tree, hair momentarily brushed by the gentle flow of air. Angelo chuckled softly, amused by the manner in which she greeted him. It was the way she paused, with a look that seemed close to what he'd expect the proverbial dear caught in the headlights of an incoming vehicle to display. The blush that accompanied his apology only added to that impression, and he opened his mouth to apologize again. She raised her hands just before he could do so. His instinct for communication seemed to indicate that she didn't want an apology, and her body language didn't seem to be angry or disappointed-- if anything, the weak smile merely said she seemed to be nervous.

AJ remembered reading somewhere that most of the actual process of communication was done nonverbally. As someone that prided himself upon being able to read others, he had a hunch they might have an easier time communicating if he stopped trying to look for a voice that couldn't emerge, and instead focused on taking in the other details. It seemed to work when he pointed to the picnic basket, which drew a stronger smile than what emerged from his apology. AJ smiled in return, following at her side. He had to slow his stride a little, to match her pace.

He was far too used to moving on his own through a crowd, as it was a little more difficult than he thought. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her start to write on the familiar notepad. Angelo's eyes scanned the script her pen left behind, reading the message swiftly. The first part made him hesitate for a moment, mostly because he hated mentioned what he actually did. "It was.. busy," he answered, "lots of paperwork to fill out and many assignments to complete. I think I've been fine. And how have you been, Ms. Grace?" Angelo questioned politely.

It seemed. Perhaps. That he wasn't much into talking about work. She didn't blame him. For most, work was not the fun time that she enjoyed. Her music was her passion. And she was one of the few, lucky enough, to have been able to turn that passion into a job. She made good money. Most of which she saved. She did not believe in investing. The market, too often, plumeted, and too often, people lost all their money. For her, it was better to keep it in liquid assets, in banks, and hidden in her place in places that she felt were not common places for one to look.

A questioning look crossed her face when he mentioned he 'thought' he was fine. Afterall, he was the only person that would know, she thought. But perhaps, he was still quite confused. Perhaps she was able to make it better for him. Perhaps she could make something amazing happen.

But reality always proved otherwise.

He asked after her own day, and she tilted her head to the side thinking about her answer before she began to write.

~Better now. Getting better with every moment.~

Accompanied with a blush, that was her answer. She felt that it could only get better. At least, that was what she thought. Hoped. She hoped that things could only get better. She hoped there was some way they could connect. She was really interested in just that. But she felt that, he was far too good for her.

Kimber pointed. There was a lovely spot. A grove of trees. Wholey unpopulated by people, kids, or animals yet. There was some shade, some sun, and a nice place to set up a blanket without having to worry about their food rolling away. She smiled, and wanted to see if he was game. If he was they would hike up to the small grove, it wasn't a hard walk just a bit up hill and when they made it she would help him set out the food and the basket before sitting next to him.

She pulled the computer out of her purse, along with the small speaker that she handed him. If he held it, or had it close to him, then, it would work. If she held it, it would not. The computer popped on quickly and she quickly loaded the program that she had made for her that allowed the computer to speak for her in a female voice. She quickly typed.

~I was surprised when you contacted me. But very excited. Thank you for inviting me out. It is a really great day. Do you come to the park often?~

He caught the questioning look she gave at his odd choice of words. Angelo glanced away, giving a light shrug in response. "I've been good. Some days more so than others," he added, hoping that would resolve whatever unasked questions were new brewing beneath the surface. Experience made clear the lesson that being hard to read was both a valuable ability and an inconvenient trap. For one, it meant that people were more than likely to question his words when they suspected something, even if they had nothing concrete to go on but instinct. Angelo's eyes flicked back to her, his ears recognizing one particular oddity about her that escaped in their prior meeting.

To his other side, he could hear clearly the footfalls of his shoes along the trail, the sound of a light wind rustling the grass, and the voices of conversations held far away, to his back, his right side, and a little further up ahead. There was a "dead spot" where she walked, a constant zone where sound seemed to avoid. Or rather, it was the absence of it, as if she absorbed the sounds of the worlds completely, to his left. "That's odd," he remarked, shifting his head ever so slightly to the side to test the theory. Yet again, the location of the disruption remained within the same relative location next to him. I'm not going deaf.. there's something about her.

His eyes caught the movement of her pen against the pad once more, though the familiar, scratching sound of the nib against dry paper was absent. It was mildly disorienting. Nothing I can't take, but.. I'm going to have to ask about this eventually. Angelo smiled demurely as he read her response. He laughed softly. "Flattery will certainly get you a free lunch, Miss Kimber," Angelo replied, his tone teasing despite the relative lack of distinct intonation to his words. AJ's sense of humor tended to fall under the schema of dry wit, though he hoped it wasn't off putting.

She pointed. He followed the line of her finger to where it terminated, quite logically, at a very well suited spot for them to settle down for the afternoon. There was nobody in sight, which added to the illusion of privacy and moderate seclusion it would appear to grant. "Ah. That'll do nicely. Shall we?" It didn't take very long to arrive, and for the picnic basket to reveal its contents. The blanket, after a little smoothing, made a comfortable barrier against the ground. He sat on the edge beneath the sun, subconsciously craving to bask within its golden rays. The light made his blue green eyes appear luminous, more so as he took the speaker from her. "Music?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow. It became clear as she typed something on the computer, and the speaker issued words spoken in an electronic cadence. "Well, you did seem to be an interesting person when we met, and.. I wanted to see if you'd like to spend some more time talking to me." He was earnest, though the coy smile that slipped onto his face as she asked if he came to the park often might have sent the wrong message.

"No, not really. I like the solitude, and it's a great place to collect my thoughts, but I'm usually far too busy to make a trip out here. I suppose I'm fortunate that I did, though. I'd never have been introduced to you or Seinshun without that rare trip," Angelo stated, opening the picnic basket. The crisp scents of fresh, warm grilled cheese sandwiches and the tart peanut butter and jelly squares mixed together as they emerged. "So," he began, "do you often come out to parks with strange, but well dressed men?" he asked, an amused smirk appearing. It was perfectly like him-- ask a serious question in the guise of humor.

He wanted to talk some more.

And... she could not talk.

Kimber was honestly, heartbroken. There were times, that she wished, she could share her voice with a person. Just one person. But she knew that would never happen. It was not merely a choice for her not to speak. Instead, something thrust upon her by Terra. She sometimes didn't mind. But there were times, times like now, that she wished she could laugh, giggle, and talk like a normal girl. Because even if he was, truly, interested in getting to know her. He was going to have to work at it. Know her language. Or be ready to read a lot. Perhaps to read her cues, that she gave nonverbally before she even really knew what she wanted to say or write.

A lot of work.

She doubted he would think her worthy of such a thing.

He smiled at her. But it was easy to smile. He could spend a little time with her here. And then go on about his life, and she would stay in her silent untouched little world. There were times, in the past, darker times, where she had thought perhaps it might be easier to end her own existance.

But she had never been brave enough.

He mentioned he preferred solitude. It was by happenstance that he was in the park that day when she and Seinshun had been there. A soft smile crossed her face hearing that. Fate. Perhaps. She would like to think it fate, but she was not sure that was what it was. Fate would have a fantastic plan in mind. Love maybe, but Kimber doubted Fate was touching her.

When he asked his question, her face lit up in a laugh. Though one couldn't hear it, it was there, and she shook her head. Typing so that he could hear what she had to say.

~I was there to draw. And write. Sometimes, while my muse is inward, my inspiration comes from outside. People, places, situations. They all make up the world that is my music. I will play for you some time. People, they relive emotions, sometimes, they tell me.~

She looked up at Angelo and then down at the lunch.

~Thank you for bringing lunch, it looks wonderful. How did you have time with such a busy schedule. Next time, I will supply the food. If you'll let me. I can cook pretty good, I don't too much though, because cooking for myself gets lonely and I have to do all the clean up myself~ Her body gave a little chuckle, a smile on her face, but no noise. Not her tapping away on the keyboard, nor anything she did made a single noise. She chewed on her lower lip for a moment.

~What do you do? When you are not working? Do you have hobbies?~

He caught the appearance of a smile as he mentioned their meeting had been purely luck. It was cryptic, but then again, there was so much he had yet to understand about Kimber Grace that it hardly bothered him. What did inspire him to wonder, however, was the blank spot that surrounded her. Angelo smiled brightly as her face lit up. Okay, so she doesn't seem to mind that sense of humor, he thought, observing her silent laugh. The electronic voice responded to his question.

"I see," he answered, nodding. "I'm not much of an artist, but I do understand how it'd be inspiring to go somewhere outside like this." Angelo glanced around, admiring the beauty of the park. He returned his gaze to her. "After all, there's so much natural beauty you can find in places like these." He laughed softly at that. AJ raised an eyebrow as she offered to play for him. "Really? That would be nice, though I'm curious-- what instruments do you play?"

Angelo crossed his legs, using the extra stability to lean back and further enjoy the golden sunlight. In a way, he was still drawn to it. He didn't freak out when night fall like some of the other Avians he knew, but it bothered him on some level. In a way, he supposed his control over fire was a coping mechanism. He could always produce a fireball that "tricked" his Avian side into believing there was weak daylight.

"You're very welcome." He laughed again, tossing his head back at her question. "I cheated. I'm ambidextrous, and I'm a talented multitasker," Angelo said, holding up both his hands. He smirked as she mentioned cooking. "Well, next time, there's a neat little restaurant near where I'm currently stationed. I think the owners could be persuaded to let us use the kitchen, if you're up to it." His offer was genuine. If she was interested, then he'd work his persuasive talents to make that idea come through.

"What do I do for a hobby? That's a good question. I cook, usually. It's easy for me, since I can do this," he said, bringing his hands up and snapping the fingers of both hands. Twin plumes of yellow flame, roughly the size of road flares, blossomed into life and faded after a second. It'd be wrong of me to keep that from her. After all, I -do- make fires out of nothing. "Beyond that, I practice my swordwork, make sure my shooting is up to scratch, I read, and I occasionally see a movie or some music."

He inquired about her instruments. She smiled.

~All. But I am most proficient at the violin and the piano. Sometimes, I dabble with my flute. But mostly, I do the piano and the violin. But I can play a lot of things. Sometimes it just takes me a little time to understand the notes~

Kimber was proud of her talent. The natural ability to pick up an instrument and be able to play it was a rarity. She knew this. But she knew that her talent extended beyond that single ability. And onto the fact that she could make people feel. Sometimes different things. Sometimes the same things. Her power seemed to grow, stronger and stronger as she played more and more. In allowing her to get across a story, when she played, a moment in time, something that inspired the song she played for the ears of the listeners.

He was lovely, leaned back in the sunlight. She wished she did not need so much, to stay here where she could type. And could lay beside him. But she knew that she would have to remain silent, or write, or perhaps he would have to change to yes and no questions. Something easily answered for her to do that. And so, she stayed where she was, watching an angel lie in the grass.

When he mentioned the restaurant with the kitchen they could use. her eyes lit up like a child on Christmas. The fact that they could cook. Together. Something that they had in common. She didn't know how they would be able to talk and cook at the same time. But she would figure it out. Even if she had to act things out. Pantomime for him, she would do whatever it took.

~I would love to cook with you. Let me know when and where.~

The computer could not convey the excitement that would have been in her voice. But she hoped that the look on her face was enough to do that instead. His hobby was cooking, and her eyes went round as saucers when he showed off his talent. Fire. Both hands. There was no match or anything. He was capable of doing it on his own. She was impressed for usre. He talked about reading, and swordwork, shooting, and maybe watch a movie or something.

She wished that she had brought an instrument with her. But she didn't want to show off, on their first.. date.. meeting.. gathering, she wasn't sure what they should call it. She didn't want to jump ahead and assume it was anything until he told her otherwise. Or kissed her. But these days, even that didn't always mean what she would think it meant.

~You use swords? And guns? That is amazing! I always wanted to learn how to do those things. Guns are so loud though! I guess you get used to them, after a while. I liked to read too, I read often. Mostly I compose my music though. Or draw .. write lyrics, I go for walks a lot. To think. My best ideas come from when I am not doing anything but merely exhisting.~

She put her computer down and crawled gently across the blanket and sunk down in the warm sun soaked blanket area beside him. Facing up she smiled. A soft quiet smile as her eyes closed. She felt the sun beating down on her small form. Feeling it's warm carressing rays, laying beside him, in her own silent world.

"That's impressive," Angelo remarked, leaning forward and resting his hands on his knees. "When did you start playing?" he asked, before following it up with the addendum; "how long have you been playing, rather?" He smiled warmly- she was talented, and seemed to have more potential to learn as time went on. AJ had the peculiar sensation of "feeling" that she would have a bright future as a musician ahead of her. His face brightened as she typed in an affirmative response. They would be cooking together, at some point. It was strange-- she seemed so ready to spend her time with him. Then again, he supposed, she didn't seem to have very many people that would talk to her, let alone bother to spend time around her. His instincts pointed towards both her inability to speak and the strange dearth of all sound that appeared near her. It could certainly be off putting for people, but he was certainly not most people.

"I'll check my work schedule, and I'll find a day where we'll be able to have the run of the place for a few hours. We can cook, we can write, and there won't be anyone staring at you or listening in to the computer," he said, hoping these arrangements would work for her. Angelo thought, for a moment, that he might be getting better at reading her reactions and facial expressions. The look she gave when he showed off his fire was priceless. Most people cringed, or backed away. It was instinct, in the sense that a sudden burst of flame triggered some primal instinct within people to flee. Some even accused him of being a fiend due to the coloration of his feathers and the means by which he flew.

"I do. I'd be a poor field agent if I couldn't wield one or the other. My old man, he was a soldier in the war, and he taught me how to defend myself. The rest I sorta picked up through scraps as a youth," Angelo explained, turning his cheek slightly away to get the faint scar on his left cheekbone out of the sunlight. It had been the final straw for him, that knife fight. "Guns are loud, though you can get the noise level down with a suppressor. Swords are much more my speed, though I think being ambidextrous means I could technically operate either/or without being at too much of a disadvantage."

And just like that, his secret was out. Truly, it was hardly much of a secret, but he usually didn't talk about his job. Especially not to people he actually had a vested interest in. "You read, that's good. What do you usually read?" he inquired, reaching for one diagonal cut grilled cheese sandwich. He was a little hungry, and why make a lunch if you had no intention of partaking, right? Angelo watched demurely as she moved across the blanket to sink next to him. Her eyes closed, and he chuckled softly. "I didn't think I'd put you to sleep that quickly. I should definitely figure out how to use this newfound ability. It would be rather handy if I could merely talk offenders into sleep and capture them that way." He was kidding, in the typical des Veren manner.

Kimber enjoyed this.

Getting to know someone. Having them get to know her. She felt more comfortable by the second. Comfort was a luxory. One that she didn't often get to experience. That was just not something, she got to enjoy. She wished that she could. She wished that she could be comfortable in her own skin. But again, it was not a possibility.

~I began to play when I was three. My parents said I have always liked music. Any toys when I was a baby, dealt with music. Now, I am even more so intuned with my music. I love to hear the notes and melodies. I think every life, is a melody, days are notes, and your life is a symphony.~

Cheesy. But true.

He mentioned that he would check with the restaurant. His schedule. And her own. So they could find a day. Where they could cook. Together, in the kitchen. No one to bother them. No one to make them feel less. He told her about his marksmanship. The guns, the swords. How he preferred the blades, and how being ambidexterous enabled him to use them with both hands. Something, she was sure, came at an advantage to him. She was interested in him. He was so different from her. Different from what she was like. Different from people that she met. And she liked that. Liked that he seemed so open to her. So.. eager to learn.

He showed the scar. She leaned close. Looking at the scar. And she felt bad for him. It must have hurt. She was lucky. She had never had to fight for herself. She was very sheltered. Her parents had kept her that way. For the most part. To protect her, as her world further descended into silence.

~I read, a lot of things. Mostly fiction. Mostly sci-fi and different things. I try different things. Something that allows me to escape from my world. For a little while. Sometimes, it's nice, to dream, that I could be.. like the people in the book. Talk easily, say what I want, things like that. ~

She looked down and away before she climbed over beside him and lay down. She would eat, in a moment, right now, she was soaking in the sunlight. Feeling the warmth. Enjoying the way that it shimmered down on her face. When he teased her about falling asleep her blue eyes sprang open. She was up, her hands moving, giving him grief right back in sign language before she froze, stopped, hands dropped.

He couldn't understand her.

And she didn't have her computer right now. She shook her head. And motioned like she was sleeping, and shook her head. Then pointed at the sky, and her face, and closed her eyes again. It felt good. Being warm. Being able to lay here. Enjoy the world for a moment.

I wish, for once, I could really speak

"That's a beautiful way of putting it," he said, cocking his head thoughtfully to the side. "I can't say I did anything very special as a baby. Well, except for attempting to fly, that is." He chuckled softly, almost innocently. It was rare for him to think of, and comment upon his childhood so lightheartedly. After all, he willfully rejected the Others and the Humans because of his experiences during those formative years. By comparison, it was her world that seemed to be nothing but sweet and light-- a stark contrast to his life.

Could the world get any stranger? As it turned out, it could. She seemed genuinely interested as he talked about the plans to cook, and his preferences for weapons. "You know, I can't exactly say that I've met anyone quite like you," he remarked, glancing back at her bemusedly. "Most people don't like fire, and even less find someone that spends his time hunting down decidedly bad people to be remotely someone they'd spend a Sunday at a park with," Angelo added, a smile showing clearly.

He liked that about her. She wasn't like the people he usually encountered, and though talking to her was going to be a little more difficult that talking to other people, he actually enjoyed it. AJ felt her eyes move to his scar. Her closeness only accentuated the odd feeling of self consciousness that manifested as she neared. "It's an old wound. I haven't met anyone these days that got close enough to do worse, or match that," he said assuringly, making a stab at what she was thinking and hoping to interdict any negative thoughts that might emerge.


He laughed as her eyes sprung open in response to his teasing, and she shot up, signing away at what he assumed would be the appropriate, witty response.
She stopped suddenly, though, prompting him to ask. "Whoa, I can't understand that. I'd like to, though," he added, with a confident smile. "If you'll teach me, that is." He could understand her charade, but, he'd much rather be able to understand her signing.

The scar was old.

She could tell that, from the color. New would be brighter, pink, maybe purple, but this was white, almost skin toned, which meant that it wasn't new. But she was shocked to find that he did not let people closer. Not any longer. Never close enough that they might hurt him. Giving him another scar. She was not really that upset about him having a scar. She felt as though.

When she was giving him hell. And froze. he admitted that he wasn't able to understand. She didn't blame him. She blamed herself. For thinking that he could understand. For.. forgetting that he could not. For putting himself, and her.. in a position of.. being awkward. She hated that thought. Fearing that he would realize she was nothing but a strange little girl.. one that could not speak.

But then he admitted he wanted her to teach him.

Teach him to sign.

And her eyes lit back up after having darkened when she realized that they had no real way to communicate without paper or computers. She grabbed her paper and pencil and wrote down for him.

~I would really like that.~

She smiled softly and then she pointed to the food, and then she made the sign. Again she did it twice more so that he would understand that this was the sign for food. It was important that he would begin to grasp what was each word, before she worked into the nuances of all the lingo, the idioms, and the full language. Words was the easiest place to start.

She picked up her paper again.

~Thank you, I appreciate you wanting to learn my language. I wish, desperatly so, that I were able to speak with you, like a normal girl. But I cannot. So thank you for being patient. It means a great deal to me.~