he feels as if he’s being sized up as the boy takes him in. looks and stares and drinks him up; appraising in a way he doubt a normal child would. children were intuitive, so he’s heard, and their inquisitive minds allow them to notice what those who are older may not. but this… no this felt deeper as if he’s being absorbed from the inside out.
king has always liked his privacy and there’s a tinge of discomfort. it goes easily ignored.
it’s when the child recoils (not in surprise or fear but more like a step out of a trance) that he knows he’s drunk his fill. the corner of his lip twitches as if he knows. ashes and smoke and more ashes and smoke. they also say dreams can reflect one’s soul.
But heavy thoughts were for another day, and not one he cares to share with someone half his age. so he reaches into his pocket to do what he initially planned when first beckoning the kid over. he pulls out a couple pieces of candy — their intended recipient another but he figured it was okay — and offers it to the other.
he notices the uneasiness of the other. interesting that he chooses not to comment, though. this one is thoughtful, he notices. he blinks, once, twice, and takes in his ensemble, tries to recollect where he has seen it before. he knows he remembers, but leaves the memory in its dusted corner.
he's pried enough.
the man offers him some candy and he's mildly surprised. his disposition is not the sort that would warrant favours like these, but he is grateful. there is a sweet tooth in him and he enjoys how sugar melts on his tongue, warm and just sort of sickly. he hasn't eaten anything in a long time, he has never found a need to before now.
the boy draws out a grateful smile and accepts the sweets, still silent. he assumes that the man is not one for words, as well. he casts his gaze down onto the confectioneries and unwraps one, placing several on his tongue before he smiles, again, satiated.
