the difference between hurt and injured
Diluc knew calling CPS was the better option. He was horrible with kids, and they had a tendency to not like him, too. So, why couldn't he get his fingers to finish typing out the required numbers when he found a crying child in his bar?
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"Get out."
The child did not look phased at all. In fact, he giggled. "I suspect you would think and say as much, for I look young and such," he rhymed, his hands moving along with his flowing words. "A drink in exchange for a story performed, just one for a boy so scorned?"
Diluc did not miss the way his lips pursed out into a pout and the way his eyes widened in an innocent expression. Fortunately, the owner disliked needy children as much as he hated the taste of alcohol. He prepared himself to repeat his statement when the consumer on the left chimed in, "Where are your parents, kid?"
His bright smile twitched. "Under their watch I certainly am. Do not fear, we're not in a jam." The kid laughed it off again, and this time Diluc noticed the dirt crusted under his nails. He felt for his phone again. The bartender knew a liar when he saw one.
