Snippet #2238250

"Pfft, So that's what you were worrying about." The boy said. Valen could tell the statement wasn't meant to be offensive, but he found himself put down a bit by it anyway.

"I was wondering why you were so hesitant... Well sure, I don't normally bring people I meet on the street into my home, but you're not a normal person, are you Valentine? No, you seem very sweet, very gentle, and very kind. You don't seem to be murderous and malicious and vile, do you? No, I brought you with me because you seem like good company and we made a deal that I'd replace your dinner that I ruined. Seems like a good enough reason for me to bring YOU into my home, doesn't it? So no, I don't just bring anyone into my home. You're different. Special even." The boy smiled kindly.

Valen simply stared up at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. After a moment, he broke his gaze, ducking his head down and hunching his shoulders, regaining his shyer, introverted position. All this was so embarrassing. Calling him sweet and gentle and kind and special. Even commenting on his name when he'd introduced himself. He started shaking his head, opening his mouth to say something against the statements. Sure, maybe he wasn't so murderous or malicious. But one could never say anything against vile. Vile, disgusting, pitiful. It was the whole reason he kept away from other people. The minute they saw him, they turned up their noses, only thinking about how disgusting what he'd done to his skin was. It wasn't something he could help, it was simply something he had to do. Basic survival. He wanted to say something, but nothing of the sort would come out, and he closed his mouth, biting his lip and staring at the ground.

"Still, if it bugs you, it can't be helped. Let's start over." The boy held his hand out to shake with Valen. "I'm Kaleb Reinhardt. If we shake hands and meet each other properly, we aren't strangers anymore, are we? Seems to me like we're closer to being friends than anything else. So what do you think? Would it be normal for me to invite a friend into my house for dinner? Don't worry about the blood on your hands, I'm wearing gloves and I can wash them and get you a bandage later. They're just gloves, they aren't important. What is important, is that right here and right now, you shake my hand, friend."

He looked back up at Kaleb, inspecting that kind, caring expression. People like that, the kind who just looked at the good in people, were few and far between. And it normally didn't last very long even in those cases. He hesitated another moment, looking at the offered hand. Kaleb said not to worry about the blood, after all. But this was so odd. He didn't really know how exactly he wanted to react. Kaleb was almost too sweet and kind - probably the sort of person who would take in stray or wounded animals to help them - and Valentine felt like he didn't deserve it. After a moment, he extended his hand as well, meeting Kaleb's hand gently and giving it a light handshake. He stayed quiet for a moment, biting his lip a moment while he dropped the hand that he'd been using, before realizing something.

The blood on his hands..... If the boy was blind.... how did he know about the blood? Valentine hadn't told him about scraping his hands, he'd hid them and acted like nothing happened. He looked back up at Kaleb, staring again with his head tilted to one side. "How did you know I had blood on my hands? I didn't say anything about it..." He fidgeted, pulling his hood a little further over his head for good measure. Logic would have told a person that it was stupid to worry about his skin being revealed to a blind man, but Valentine could never be too careful. At this point, the last thing he wanted was for this kind person to be disgusted with him. To think he was gross. He shook his head, almost wanting to disregard what he'd said, as if it were unimportant, despite how peculiar it was. "Um, never mind. You're being so kind to me and all i can come up with is more questions.... I'm being rude."

He bit his lip, looking a bit apologetic. "Thank you... For being so nice." He said the words softly, and stepped slightly closer. "I'm just not used to it is all."