Helping him with eyeblack. Something so simple, so small. Something a friend would do.

But with you? It was different. It felt intimate, having you in front of him, dragging it across his eyes. The way you bit your tongue to focus, he loved it. He spoke.

“In your eyes I get lost.” He whispered sweetly, closing his eyes again.

He loved the wholesomeness, a stark contrast from what he normally faced. It was almost like you were a parent, helping your child. That was his weakness, parental acts.