you're not like the seven everyone portrays you as. where's your shyness? your awkwardness? no wonder nobody bothers sticking around as your "companion"
understanding the nomes was hard, seeing as all he ever heard were noises from them. he finds himself listening in on one little gray nome ( where were these newly colored ones coming from? ) that's waddled in front of him. what he hears isn't something he likes. the garbled words hit hard, almost like a wave crashing over his small body. tiny boy in blue wincing from the blow, hands instinctively in front of him— his cheap version of a shield. sudden aggression was a weakness no one could prepare for accurately, not even a survivalist well trained in righting failures of times past. his eyes are veiled behind greasy hair ; though his mouth speaks wonders with the way his tickled-pink lips tremble. if anyone looked at him closely, he would appear as though he was about to cry.
but the runaway tries to toughen up, tries to steel his jaw from it's worried clicking. flexing his tiny paws into fists, scrambling for that fighting nature.
" i'm not a seven ! " he shouts, before remembering himself. flushing deep scarlet ( familiar to flesh six ripped open long ago ) at his mishap. " i'm not shy or awkward because it's... it's been squeezed out of me, okay ? "
truth guzzles out, lacking his sharpness. instead it almost sounds honeyed— the complete truth. the boy wraps his arms around his stomach, bending over from the weight of it. why did everyone think he had to act a certain way? haven't they seen the life he's lived? children don't go through this, so he refuses to act like a child anymore. and even then he still carries a shred of kindness underneath his frail skin! just because he's survival-orientated doesn't mean he's cruel or lacks anything good in him...
( but he comes up lacking because it's true, cruelty is embedded in his bones )
he's not anything. he's just here. a speck among the warped world trying to live to see if there's anything under his layers worth exposing to people. who's seven? who's rk? everyday he grows more and more distant to the portrayal everyone expects of him.
what really makes him shudder is the dig at his loneliness. at first he opens his mouth to spew about how loneliness is freedom, but none of that comes out like intended.
he instead says, " yeah, nobody sticks around because i'm hard to deal with. nobody who i ever loved stays forever and... " why is he saying this?
" when they realize how hard i am they don't realize what i'll do for them. and so they leave. and then something terrible always happens . "
a girl in a yellow raincoat tearing into his new flesh, a clawed hand dragging him deeper under the ice water. he's alone and he knows why nobody sticks around. everything the strange-looking nome said was true, and the boy can't help but collapse to his knees at the weight of it all. maybe he'll rest a few days and... forget this ever happened.
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