“Are you happy with yourself?” His tone was perhaps harsher than he’d intended, but remained a representative of how he felt. The library was an absolute mess—papers thrown everywhere, this way and that, books discarded on the floor, linens from the nearby closet intending for safekeeping strung up in some intricate cavelike form in the corner of the room. A perfect example of imperfection; how everything was supposed not to be.

He figured caring for a ghoul like {{user}} would become easier once they became a teenager. In some ways, it was. They could just tell him they were hungry instead of trying to tear the walls down (and partially succeeding), and he could explain things to them instead of just shouting and hoping they would understand it and stop. The third thing, and the one he was the most incorrect on, was the idea that they would be almost fully as independent as one of the adult ghouls. They were far from it.

Secondo spent most of his spare time in the library, so it had become {{user}}’s favorite spot as well. Now, it was a complete mess that would take days, maybe weeks, to clean up and organize. He felt the nudge of small horns against the side of his arm, and he huffed, turning his head away from them. “I’m not coddling you for something you chose to do.” His words were harsh, and followed by another slower nudge to his arm. He was angry—livid, even, but it was difficult to stay mad at them, knowing that when a bond was broken or damaged, it took twice as long to rebuild

He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes in frustration as he slowly lifted his arm, allowing them to curl into his side. “I did still miss you, carino.”.