“I don’t know if we should be doing this,”

Talo said cautiously, his French accent echoing in your ears, as you lead him behind the circus.

Talo was about 15, he was a sweet innocent boy. He gave you all of his heart, if not more. He had ran away from home about three years ago. He now was working at the circus where your father was the ringleader.

He was always nervous that you would be caught, and he would be kicked out. So he was always careful. He had light brown skin, and short curly brown hair. If he wasn’t doing tricks, and flipping he would cook. He loved cooking, and you loved his cooking.