Dangerously Close (Aris x Reader)

21) Brave

He paid attention to detail for sure. If he had a notebook and pen, he probably would have started taking notes on where things go.

The day wasn't bad. I don't think so. It was probably good. I think. Talking with him in the forest. Meeting his friends. The easy task of unpacking. I just wish I didn't have to be so paranoid.

I had to wait for Aris to fall asleep so I could read the book. Actually read. Especially since he seemed to be quite interested in those particular boxes today.

He talks though. He talks a lot, which is weird because he seems so quiet around other people sometimes. If he’s actually a quiet person than my soul is pure as an angel’s.

I don't mind though. He has a nice voice. The more he spoke too, the more I was able to pick up on this subtle southern accent. Something that made mine slip out the more I spoke back.

“It ain't that bad ‘round here. Different though,”I admitted, my head resting on my hands as I looked at him.

“Did you know ain't is an actual word despite the way people argue about it? You can find it in some dictionaries,”He informed me, his eyes having that glint they always do when he gets to share information.

This is really the person Cain wants me to kill. I don't think I could even manage to hurt him.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Hm.”

“I kind of like knowing things and having no idea how I know them. It helps me remember that I’ve always been someone, even if I don't know who.”

His voice didn't seem to hold any anger at his lack of memories. No bitterness of it all. Just him trying to make the best out of something terrible that happen.

“That's a really positive way to see it. You have a lot of positive way you see things. You're real interesting, city boy.”

“City boy is back?”

“You never stop calling me poet. You need a nickname too.”

“All that after you said you didn't like nicknames.”

“I don't. I hate them actually,”I said firmly.

“So am I not supposed to call you poet?”

“Poet is fine.”

He looked at me with that wide smile that I was becoming way too familiar with. It wasn't exactly taunting, but it seemed kind of teasing? A friendly teasing though, one without any malice?

It wasn't one I had seen before. I know that. There was no cockiness or fakeness or a dead look behind the eyes. It's always just a smile. There's no ill intent or hate or disgust or manipulation.

“You okay?”He asked, pulling me out of my head.

“Mhm. Just thinkin’.”

“Can I know what you're thinking?”

“You’re the first real smile I’ve seen. It's weird.”

“My smile is?”He asked quickly, his expression dropping.

“No. Genuinely smiling. I’ve never seen that before.”

“Oh poet-”
“I’m not saying pity me. You asked, I answered. Simple as that.”

“I don't. It's just strange. I’ve never thought about that. About what it'd be like to just not be happy.”

“People can definitely be happy. It's just fake. When it’s fake, either they're ‘bout to die or rich as gold.”

“Is it even happiness if you need something to feel it?”

“No. That's why it's weird. Seein’ anyone smile. Realizing' you're probably the first person 've seen smile and mean it.”

Sighing, he adjusted his hands under him before yawning, blinking a few times to stay awake.

“Ya’ should probably go to sleep.”

“You should too.”

“I will.”

Seeming to believe me, he shut his eyes as he pulled the sleeping bag closer to him, his face buried in it.

He was not afraid. He did not think he had anything to run from. He trusted the things and people around him, even if so many others have hurt him.

I want to be brave like that.

I want to be brave like Aris.