The Bird That Couldn't Sing (GBFF)

Chapter 21 - Kota

"Sang, please take a seat," I insist, channeling my inner Mr. Blackbourne. I wonder what it would be like to call her by her last name, whatever that is. I should ask her soon...

I shiver at the thought. I don't think I'd ever want to call Sang anything other than her uniquely perfect name. Well, except for sweetie or perfect or mine. A boy can only dream.

She nods, her beautiful hair falling to shield her face just slightly. And even though it's super adorable, I still wish I had enough confidence to walk up to her and tuck it behind her delicate ear. But I don't. And the hair remains in the way, blocking her all-too perfect face from my prying view.

She makes her way back over to the couch where she'd been crying not too long ago, and I tense slightly. I don't want to remember her face when she cries. Yes, the tears might make her milky skin glisten. Yes, her haunted green eyes might shine like deep emeralds. And yes, her already plump lips might look even more inviting. But she's still crying. And I'd give anything to make the word 'tears' disappear from the human psyche all together, so as to stop hers from falling like a green-gazed waterfall of bitter pain.

With a sigh, I trek over to her, happy to close the distance but reluctant to see the scars of her past and present. She looks up at me with a soft, reserved smile, cautious at what is to come. She knows I'd never hurt her, but she doesn't know that what hurts her hurts me, too. And I'll try to fix her ache in any way I possibly can, by any means necessary.

She tucks her own strand of hair from out of her face, and I resist the urge to glare at the lock of unique blonde, wishing I had enough balls to do that myself. But instead, I smile at her and rest my hand on her bare knee, loving the way my palm tingles at the wake of her soft skin. "Sang, I want to start by asking you questions."

She nods hesitantly, a glint of blue unease in her green irises. "But you don't have to answer them if you don't want to. You have the right to keep it a secret, but that doesn't mean I don't hope you do tell us. Because I'd love it if you opened up; that makes it easier for us to keep you safe. Do you understand what I'm saying, sweetie?" Again, a nod. "Good. Gabe, the notebook please."

The blue-eyed boy with the bright personality hands Sang the notebook and pen. I internally decide that tomorrow, on one of my off days without an assignment, I will start to teach myself everything I can about American Sign Language. And I'm determined to master it by the end of this month. I'll find a way to manage; I always do... I'm not family lead for nothing.

"Right," I start, standing up and stepping back, trying my hardest not to let the sudden loss of heat affect me, "I guess we should start off by getting the most obvious question out of the way, considering we already know that you're being abused. Sweetie, where does it hurt the most?"

She sucks in a sharp intake of breath, eyes wide with an emotion I can't quite decipher. It's a mixture of many: fear, panic, wariness, but the one that stands out the most is insecurity. She's scared of the fact that her secret is no longer hidden, she's frenzied at the realization that she's no longer alone, she's nervous for our possible reactions, and she's insecure of herself and what this might mean for our budding friendship. But what she doesn't know is that there's nothing that could make me care for her any less.

And it's official, no questions asked and no more inner-arguments to be had, I love Sang. It's crazy, I'm well aware. But I suppose it's like love at first sight. My brain doesn't want to believe in the possibility that I might be in love, but my heart beats rapidly in my chest in absolute bliss. It knows this is right and that I've found the one. And I find myself repeatedly counting up the hours from when we met not long ago, just to ease my wild mind and aching heart.