It didn't take long for Prince to scurry away after the short introduction you both had. You spent too long of minutes admiring the skillful art at the ending pages of the comic, not sparing time to gain a deeper understanding of the story, and mostly because you couldn't read a thing in it. Page after page you breezed through and the strange scribbles of dialogue made no sense, besides the unfamiliar language, you leisurely read the art works. Trying to piece together a story, half failing and half enjoying. 

You sighed against the pillow, leaning against the wall.  

A loud knocking arose from the door. Gaining another sigh from your lips as the sound was too clear and too close for comfort. As you place aside the comic on the bed, planning to go to the door, a voice of gentle air interupts; "You were reading it wrong. It's read from right to left."

You gasp, jumping an inch off the floor before a cooling breath of relief was let out of you at the sight of the white haired boy and the opened door. He leaned against the sandy door frame, a hand on the bronze doorknob. It was only him, thank goodness. Your heart kept pounding an unreasonable amount of beats as you looked into his black eyes then to the shadowy hallway behind and back to him. 

"What?" You say unthinking. "Do you mean the comic book?"

He nods curtly and surprisingly continues, "you are taking too long to look at the art. The writing and storyline is important to read too. It's like this is your first time reading a fantasia comic." 

You scrunched your brows, evidently confused. "Fantasia?"

"That's the author for the series, which you should've already known if you had read." Prince tilts his head towards the comic beside you. Ah, so that was what those highlighted scribbles on the bottom of the page meant. 

"I can't read this story, it's not in any languages I know." You admitted, "the art is really pretty so I can try to make sense of the story in that way." You shrugged at him and sat down on the bed, picking up the comic to where you had left off a little frustrating and prepared to make yourself comfortable again. "Please close the door on your way out since you're the one who opened it." 

He continued standing there in deep thought as if he never heard you, before he started staring at the cover in your hands, eyes saucer wide. "Is that issue 180?! I've been waiting weeks for it to come out, I can't believe no one told me!" His sudden outburst brought your gaze onto him and he lowered his head, bashfully. 

"I can lend it to you after I'm done with it," you offered to his shock.

"May I?" 

"You may..." 

You slammed the comic close, an exaggerating long sigh as you held out the comic out towards him. "I'm actually tired of trying to understand the story. You can have it for now." Prince remained at the door, unmoving and eyeing the prize in your hand. 

He looked indecisive as he slowly walks over to you, his bandaged leg limping along. "The story is really great, I wished you would read it... W–would you like to read it together?" He asked while taking the comic from your grip, his voice disappearing at the end. 

"Prince."

"Holly." 

"I can't read but sure," there was nothing better than to do. You scooted to make more room on the bed for Prince to sit on, he took a few minutes to strech his legs out in a more comfortable position and avoided your gaze. "I can translate it for you but I'm not a expert like grandmother," he told you in a warning tone. 

"It's okay, do your best. At least you know another language."

He press his lips together, and nodded. "Alright." He flips open the comic to the further right, the beginning page, angling his body towards your direction for you to better see the art. And he parts his pink lips, soothingly reading the first sentence outloud breezily: "The Lone Giant awakes..."

▪︎▪︎▪︎ 

Like any other day in the darkest depths of the woods, the giant stirs awake at the break of light. Exiting the bear cave he had spent overnight in, the ropes of muscles on his arms and tree thick legs brought him to a slow trudge towards the river nearby. As he bent down to his knees close to the stream of water, the soil rumbling at the impact, a distinct hooting approaches from the top of branches, hidden.

The giant cups the glistening water into his large palms, rubbing his grime covered face clean, speaking in a low voice as he washes his hands. "Owl. I thought you had left long ago, why have you come again?" 

Another hooting came in reply, turning into a snicker then a full laugh. The rustling of leaves and snapping of a branch, and emerging from the shadows of the tree was an owl–winged man. "Is it wrong for one to visit a lonely friend, Vin. And when will you stop with that boring nickname, you don't see either me or Pon calling you Giant every other day." He fluffed his feathers. 

The giant 'Vin' cracked a deep chuckle, "your visits are appreciated, Owl. Where is the snake? I haven't seen you and her anywhere since the eclipse." 

The owl–man hummed, looking at the flowing water at his talon feet, "our families do not allow outings during these eclipses. It is not the safest, dear friend. Pon has her pack watching her every move while I, have my duties to stick to, you know." Vin did know, and nodded deeply to him.

 Then he rose to his feet, powerful knees caked in mud as he flicked it off his skin. Vin stared at his bird friend with an understanding softness in his voice, "send my regards to her, will you. Let us three reunite soon after these eclipses. I am sure you and her could find me at easily." He smiled, the crinkle in his rough face deepening with every ounce of strength he poured into that smile.

Owl nods, a toothy grin shining on his dark face, "I will, of course. Our time will come again, friend. See you in time." He splayed his wings, flapping a soft wind towards Vin before flying off, wings flapping hard against the cloudy clear sky. 

The Giant stayed standing as he watched his friend soar through the clouds, a farewell hooting, and becoming a small speck in the sky, disappearing from sight. Then a slight movement from the bushes brought his attention, disrupting the calmness of morning.

Peering through the bushes were a pair of the brightest eyes looking at him, the giant has never seen such intensity, boring into his soul. He crouches gently, "who may you be. I do not intend to harm, I promise." The eyes blinked, retreating back into the darkness of leaves before a figure jumps out, in a flash, floating above in midair was a short young girl in a arcane symbol cloak. 

She stares down at the kneeling giant, short brownish gold hair waving along the breezes that caressed the two. Cracking a small pearly smile, "I am named Alusian. You are?" 

The giant pushed himself up, now standing eye leveled with the flying woman, "Vin." He answered shortly with a large outstretched hand towards her. "Care to accompany me through the forest, Alusian?"

"So long as it's interesting, yes." She answered, smiling. And the two strangers set off together, unquestioning each other of their past and going on a journey of laughter and chatter as the shining esclipse in the darkening sky lit their path. 

.   .   .

His voice of a gentle breeze faded. 

Prince stopped reading unexpectedly, pushing himself off the wall. Slowly sitting up on the bed, closing the comic book in his hands and placing it down. You wait for a moment more before sitting up as well, "Aren't you going to continue?" 

Anticipation in your voice as you watch him straining his bandaged leg to stand up. He looked up at you, dark droopy eyes bordering on exhaustion, how had you not noticed the dipping skin underneath his eyes and the dry flaking bits on his ghostly lips that were flushing pink just a while ago. He must've caught a cold or some sickness, you thought. 

He gave a stiff smile as best as he could manage, "It's getting too late, I'm feeling tired. I promise I'll read the rest to you tomorrow, Holly." He says this reassuringly, the softness of his words had a calming effect on you and you almost dozed off to it. Barely noticing the quiet limping footsteps and the click of the door closing.

"Good night," you hear his masked whisper through the door, luring your eyelids to drop down and your body less alerted as a deep relaxation settled in you and you lost control, falling over. Your head had barely touched the pillow when all the lights went out. 

You hoped to be back at that house. Prince didn't know you were leaving the next day and that thought kept pestering you. The second morning's light arrived, Miss Moet packed you some breakfast lunchbox and accompanied you to return home, begrudgingly, with the comic book firmly bundled in your arms. 

Home, where it was hollow and lifeless. But your room was yours at least. You called out for Ma and Pa, and when nothing responded back, a sigh escaped from you. The scribbled notes laid on the kitchen counter, undoubtedly from your parents, were less readable than usual but you understood the meaning— Ma and Pa were busier and won't be home for a long while. A thrilling beat in your chest reminded you of everything you could do, try and experiment now.

It began with spying out the livingroom windows, watching the colorfully dressed passersby and your potential neighbours' interactions with an intense eye. So many adults and elders, that's all you could see without having to squat down whenever their eyes glance over to you behind the curtains. Creepy timing but a fun game. 

You had questions about a lot of things, and planned to gain answers someway, making the best use of your boredom— with your best bet as Prince. And just because, asking Miss Moet would be too soon of you. Ma always lectured you of being seen as too eager and to have good timing when making conversation. You think you understand her points. 

Squinting out into his bedroom from yours wasn't the best strategy considering he seem to be living in a cave by how dark his room is. He must still be asleep around this time.

You wrote that down in your untouched journal from Pa, closing it and slipping it under the mattress of your bed. Ma would've praised you for hiding things so well, but it wouldn't be a secret anymore if she knew. That brought a smile on your face.

For clues, you first tried to open your parents bedroom but the knob was dead stuck, not obeying your turns and attempts. Sagging your shoulders, you descend the stairs and this time, went into the kitchen and searched through all the small notes left behind. Carefully rereading them for anything suspicious. Nothing caught your focus except for this one urgently written paper, definitely by Pa from the endless lazy loops.

'Don't go out after sunset or 6pm, be home after 3. The town is very safe cupcake, don't worry – Lov Pa' 

If this town is so safe why the curfew? But maybe it is the set time by the chief of the town, you didn't want to come to a conclusion without anymore evidence. You raised your eyes to the tiking clock, 9AM, still early and there's enough time to plan. Miss Moet should be coming over to teach again. Perfect.

Before Miss Moet's arrival, you prepared a blackbox full of random tea infused snacks brought back by Pa from work, as Ma mentioned once— to never ask anyone of anything before giving a gift. Being likeable was more useful to gaining what you want in the long run. You hum to yourself while tying a spare ribbon around the box, just in time as a knock on the front door sounds into the room.     

You quickly welcomed her in, smiling while gifting her the black box which she first rejected politely but accepted it after many more persistent attempts. You plan to win and you will, no matter how long it takes.

"How thoughtful of you, little holly," was Miss Moet's pleased response. As you pulled out a chair for her, a glass of water on her side of the table along with a floral plate presenting a few stacks of steamed milk bread, you could only hope to become a better host like your parents. She indulges in the food provided, nibbling on the mildly sweet bread, while you worked on solving the questions in the schoolbook. 

It wasn't long before time had passed and your brain grew mushy from overuse as Miss Moet began packing up all the exercise books and supplies she brought, the plate of food beside her now held nothing but crumbs. Before she had the chance to get going, you tried delaying her by asking a question— "ah, Miss Moet, could you please tell me on which days I have classes? Ma and Pa didn't get around telling me." Or ever told me anything.

"Only six days a week, your father wanted you to have a break day of course," said Miss Moet kindly. That makes sense. 

You nod thanking her, guiding your teacher to the opened door. Just as you saw her step outside, your tongue let loose another question, this time as a test. "Is the town really safe?" It must've set something off because your words made Miss Moet spin around abruptly so fast your eyes couldn't catch her except the disconcerting expression on her long face. You took this as a sign to continue, stating and exaggerating your worry,  "since there's a curfew time."

A laugher rung through the air for several more moments before burning out, "I assure you little Holly, it is safe. Very safe. You parents must've told you, a little too early but better knowing now than later. I'm sure you understand why, precautions are best taken, of course." You nod automatically, agreeing. Playing along. Giving yourself a reminder to ask your parents when they're back home. 

You think Miss Moet likes you, and so you asked her if you could have more sleepovers. Her face lit up as she eagerly ushered you inside of her house, along with the comicbook and some nesecitiess in your arms. You spend some time chatting with Miss Moet, mostly listening to her prattle on about her experiences in choosing decors and colouring, Ma and her would definitely get along with each other very well.  

Once she was done chatting, you took the initiative to help clean the kitchen, earning a pleased look from her as you wipe the counters to a polished sheen. "I have a few errands to run, little Holly, I won't be too long. My grandson isn't a noisy person, you should be able to catch some rest." Reassured Miss Moet, picking a purse at her side as she waved at you before leaving the house probably trusted you enough to be left alone with that boy.

Perfect. 

Waiting a few more minutes pacing around, you took off racing for the stairs when you were sure Miss Moe wouldn't be returning at that moment. You never know how unpredictable people could be, learnt that the hard way from Ma. You hold the comic book and think prince must've been expecting you in some way because as you reach the top of the stairs, you spotted his door left ajar.

You step forwards, peering closely, you could see a slight shadow and an eyeball blinking at you from the small opening almost nervous. Why was he making this so easy for you? Is he this open to everyone then, you really had no clue.

After pushing the door, making your way inside the brightly yellow painted bedroom, there you stood a good distance from the white haired boy; Prince, of course it's him. He patiently waited for you to close the door and looked at you from his beige bed centered in the plain bedroom. Bringing your comicbook in your hands behind your back, you make a smile spread across your cheeks as your eyes meet his. "Nice to see you again, Prince." You say as sweet as you could manage.

He turns his head to the side, hiding his less than usual paled expression at your mention of his name. "You too, Holly." His soft voice seems to dip in volume but you probably imagined that.

A second goes by in easy silence when you decide to walk slowly in his direction, he had no reaction other than a curious glance before keeping his gaze to himself. He wasn't tense around you, which you felt was a good sign as you present the comicbook and as you suspected— Prince's eyes void of any colour were as wide as space staring at it until he averted his attention again, rosy cheeked when you chuckled at his reaction.

Was he embarrassed? This could be your chance to become on friendlier terms then comes the more secretive questions, your plan was perfect. 

You gingerly sat on the edge on his plushy bed, butt sinking into the cloudy softness of it and almost falling back. Prince seems to not notice as he bounces to beside you, peering over your shoulder, eyes fixated on the comic in your hold. Internally you were grinning, plan A of being friends and extracting information was a go. 

You slide the comic to the side, farther away from Prince's steady gaze that follows it until you turned your body towards him. "What's your favourite animal?"

 
He blinks for a moment, thinking, retracting himself to a slumping position and glancing around the bedroom and out the window. "Uh– Rabbits?" He hesitates, shifting his eyes from you entirely. You find him to be the easiest person you've ever talked to, and there aren't many people you have had conversations with. Silence settles between you and him. 

Though there was so much room on his double bed, Prince and you stuck to the very side, you suspect it mainly has to do with you and his polite nature.
Stretching your legs out for fun, you kept a constant look at his blemish free face, trying to soften your tone similar to his. "Mm... Mine are birds. I used to feed pigeons outside of my old house."

His gaze flashes to you at the end of your sentence in a heartbeat, bright charcoal like the bold shiny inky letters beneath your fingertips grazing the comic cover. You swallowed your own shock upon experiencing the oblivion of his eyes. Could you ever grow used to them, you wonder. You would never get bored of them at this rate. Was that a bad thing?

"— birds are cute," Prince's low voice tears you away from his eyelock, "except their beady eyes scare me." Hah. A smile threatens to break out on your lips, he was already starting to trust you but it was funny to see how even this boy who has the darkest eyes would have a fear to what is akin to his. You hummed lightly, leaning slightly near him, "birds aren't scary at all unless you're talking about crows. Then I agree, they are my least favourite animal."

"I can't imagine a more soulless looking creature," he added, expressionless.
You only nod along unfocused, slowly inching your free hand towards his.  

He didn't move away if he had noticed, but it was a good sign for you— to be so close yet also not. Prince and you shared the silence with ease at least for you, you keep looking at his face, secretly urging him to say something and by the slight fluttering of his lashes when he glanced up and away, he probably couldn't stand the silence. Good.

"What's your favourite then," he asked beneath a cool breath, the warm winds filtering through his window and swaying his snowy hair. You look out to your bedroom through his window, taking a deliberate second to appear in thought "Rabbits," you finally say. "I dislike them a lot. They're too cute and always running away." 

From you, their predators and the world altogether. Prince follows her gaze outside, back to her, and out again, "your bed has lots of toy rabbits for someone who doesn't like them."

"Stuffed animals," you corrected then looked at him from the corner of your eye. "Good eye, Prince."

"Thanks, I've been practicing." He said, a pinkish tint layering over his snow white cheeks. How shy, he really is easy. You find yourself enjoying the talks with him, more than you had initially expected. 

You shrug at his earlier remark, "half of the stuffed animals I own are gifts from my relatives. I can't just throw them all away even if I wanted."
Prince hummed as you hear a smile in his soft voice. "As you say... You seemed to be fond of them." 

Your shoulders roll back once again, returning his ghostly smile, leaning further back onto his back. The conversation has enough about you. "So what about you, Prince. Least favourite animal? And did you know," you lowered your tone  to a secretive whisper, drawing his attention to your mouth. "That these questions can say a lot about the kind of person you are." 

His void eyes sparkled like any other gem encased in ink as he leans closer to hear you clearer. "Does that mean my favourite animal makes me a sensitive person?" His smile keeps widening in confidence, contrary to the timid air around him before, the shyness fading from his features just like the proximity between him and you.

You did your best to maintain a thoughtfulness in your expression, "you did run away when I waved at you." You fail fighting against the smug grin appearing on your lips.

Prince feigned shock before pouting, "I did not run away! I was only hiding." 

"From what?"

"You..."

For a second you thought he was joking. There wasn't anything odd in what he said but the way he did. In the next passing moment, you stayed silent, still smiling friendly. Prince seemed to be out of words as he started looking around, fingers twitching over his bandaged leg. You try to lean against him, the first attempt was a failure after Prince almost fell over the bed from your additional weight. He must've not been expecting that.

The second try had more success as you pushed a yawn out of yourself, slowly giving him time to prepare when you rest your head on his boney shoulder. It didn't feel the most comfortable but Prince shifted the position of his shoulder to lessen the jutting of his bladed bones. He smiled back a little awkward at the close eye contact shared with you.

"You haven't answered, Prince." You say, watching the orange ceiling of the room glow and darken from the light pouring from the window. 

He responded drowsy, "about?"

"Your least favourite animal, did you already forget?" 

"I did not, I was only waiting for you to ask. They're scary, they sting alot–" 

You tried taking a guess, "bees?"

"No. Scorpions, Holly." He tensed, you feel the muscle in his shoulder harden beneath you. "They don't like me very much and neither do I."

The gears in your brain stopped and a question burned on your tongue to be asked, "You lived in this town for a while now right, so are there are scorpions and insects here?" If so, your already dulled view of the town was turning around.

Prince speaks frantically, "no no! The town is very safe, there aren't any insects anywhere. Please trust me, I just used to live far away where there were many of them." You feel a hand soothingly combing over your head, gently as though you were a newborn baby. He must've mistaken your excitment for being scared, too late to say anything about it.

"Did you get stung by one before? Is that why you don't like scorpions," You look at the stitching of his dark brows. He has never looked so reserved before until you mention that animal.

"Pinched more like... I don't remember much about it," he poked at his bandaged leg. 

"Sorry then, it must've hurt."

"It happened too long ago, I was young back then..." Prince murmurs, looking down. You don't think you can cheer him up so you keep glancing at his shining grey hair that raditated almost a honey blonde in the evening light. Peeling away from his shoulder, you reach for your comic and placed it on Prince's thigh to his surprise, returning to your resting position upon his shoulder. 

"You should feel better if you read. I'm going to take a nap for abit," you say quietly, eyelids already heavy. You hear the fluttering of pages, feel his muscles relaxing and blink little by little at the growing halo over his hair. "Do you know you're really pretty?" 

As if freezing water was dumped on him, Prince straightened his back, crimson faced or was that just sunlight gracing his features. "What— No, I'm not." And that brought the conversation to a peaceful end as for the time, your mind begins to drift off as Prince reads the story outloud in whispers, lulling you to sleep.

This wasn't the progress you expected to make, but you had no complaints.