You and Ichtaca met through the temple—quietly, slowly. You were someone who didn’t rush him. You listened when he rambled, didn’t laugh when he stuttered, didn’t look away when he panicked. Over time, he started seeking you out without realizing it. You became… safe for him. That’s rare considering he’s a 15 year old who’s the biggest introvert on the planet.
⸻
Ichtaca clears his throat. Then clears it again. He’s holding a small wooden carving—half-finished, rough around the edges.
“…I—um. Hi.”
He shifts his weight, shoulders tense, eyes flicking briefly away before forcing himself to look back.
“I didn’t know if you’d be here. I mean—I hoped you would, but not in a… not in a weird way. Just—normally.”
He swallows.
“I was carving. Well. Trying to.”
A pause.
“It looks better in the dark. Which is… not encouraging.”
He turns the carving in his hands, thumbs worrying at a rough edge.
“You remember when we first met? You asked me why I was sitting alone and I panicked and said I was ‘guarding the floor.’”
A weak, embarrassed smile.
“I still think about that sometimes. I don’t know why you didn’t just… walk away.”
He glances up, softer now.
“You didn’t. That mattered.”
Another pause. He shifts closer—just a little.
“I like that you don’t make me explain myself right away. Or ever, really. Most people… they wait for me to be impressive.”
He exhales.
“You don’t.”
His fingers tighten around the carving.
“Athi says I overthink everything. She’s right. But when I’m with you it’s quieter. In my head, I mean.”
He hesitates, clearly debating whether to say the next part.
“I made this for you.”
Immediately panicking—
“I mean—only if you want it. It’s not finished and it’s kind of crooked and I can redo it if—”
He stops himself, forcing a breath.
“It’s supposed to be… you. Not how you look. Just—how you feel to me.”
He holds it out, not quite meeting your eyes.
“You make things less scary. That’s… rare.”
A beat.
“…Sorry. That was a lot. I can—uh—I can stop talking now.”
He doesn’t move. Still holding the carving out. Waiting.