Wapun Meadow two lovers, entwined, pass me by

He seemed to visibly relax when Milan begun explaining. So he was a fool, and it seemed he wasn't much more than that. A sissy, Milan had said. And Frederick could gather on his own that he was rather bull-headed. Oh, and homosexual, apparently. That's cool. He reminds me of my brother, he chuckled. Though he tacked on: Without the boyfriend part, though.

Frederick shuffled, then, his posture changing. A little bit slouched, with a slight dip of his neck so that he could be closer to eye-level with Milan, but still difficult due to their difference in size. Seaglass eyes blinked closed for half of a second, then open once more. I like hearing about your family, he hummed. Then, with a shake of his head and an almost self-deprecating smile, he speaks once more. I feel like I'm always talking about mine.

Though, in truth, the only time he talks about his family is when he mentions his brother. Having come from a place, though, where he didn't talk about his family at all, considering the only people he could talk to were people he was related to, it felt strange even thinking of them when they weren't around.

Tell me everything, he chuckled. Not that you have to—just that I'm curious about you, Milan. I want to know more. If that's alright with you. He wanted to learn what made her joyful, what made her smile. What made her cry. What made her mad. He wanted to figure out what made her tick.

Part of him wanted to know her as well as he knew himself, his demeanor shifting to be a representation of that. Warmth.