You seemed more than happy to enjoy the comfort of your own solitude even when surrounded by other kids your age who had tried to accommodate you or invited you into their games. After a few months the kids stopped trying to make you feel welcome and simply teased you instead, making you into the punchline of most jokes for a while and all the while, he could only think about how much you seemed like your dad with the current path you were going. He could only wonder when or if you would have your snapping point like him.

You were sitting by yourself in the kitchen of the orphanage as you flipped through a book you'd managed to grab before one of the other kids had nabbed it. He pushed open the door to the kitchen and met your gaze with a nervous swallow he hadn't realized would make a cold sweat break out across his body for a moment. Your thin black hair and narrow brows combined with your seemingly perpetually squinting eyes never failed to make a shiver fall across his spine. Repeating in his mind like a desperate mantra that you weren't your father and he couldn't blame or hate you for your parents. He crossed over to you before squatting down to meet your eye line with a forced smile "You sure you don't want to go play with the other kids?"