Dalaric

Dalaric "Ricky" Mikael was known for two things; being the country's best assassin and being a silent brute. His demons enveloped him in darkness and he saw no end of any tunnel. Until a girl, who's weird and wears nothing but a pair of black jeans and t-shirts that are too big for her, called him pretty.

"It's not." He shocks me again and my smile gets wider as happiness flushed through me. Seeing him understand why I'm upset is mentally refreshing. The people who hurt me don't understand. Even mama doesn't. I can tell from the new wounds every week. I move forward and hug his slim waist tightly while smushing my face into his very warm chest. His turtleneck is soft under my chin. His hands lay by his side and I use my own to bring them around my waist. Our height difference makes it only a bit harder for him to put his chin on my head. Dalaric remains tense but but holds me tighter when I try to pull away. "This is what friends to, I think. They hug, right?" I ask, tapping my chin in thought. He seems just as lost as me with his blank expression and slight confusion. He tries to pull me back but I shake my head and he glares at me. I boop his nose and grin at his cute glare. Aw.