(I don't know if any of you read Yorktown but I just want to say that Buddy is doing GREAT in his new home! They've actually set up an Instagram page for him! I now walk a few different dogs but my main pup is called Benny. He's an Irish wolfhound :) but honestly he's awesome, and he's REALLY uncoordinated, so every time I give him a treat he accidentally bites my hand a little :) anyway- I'm with the story!)

ALEXANDER'S POV

I've been with the Washington's for about 4 weeks now, and I've settled in comfortably. They're really sweet, they'll do anything for anyone. A knock sounds at my door, making me look up from the book they'd gifted me.

"Alexander, dear, foods nearly ready." I hear Martha's sweet voice call through the thick pine wood. I stand, open the door and wash my hands in the bathroom.

(WASH YOUR HANDS PEOPLE. CORONA MAY NOT EXIST IN THIS BOOK BUT IT DOES IN REALITY. WASH. YOUR. HANDS. PLEASE.)

I trot down the large staircase and see George at the bottom, dressed in a pale grey dress shirt and a pair of black slacks.

"How're you doing, Alexander?" He asks kindly, a warm, inviting smile on his features.

"I'm good, thank you for letting me stay. I can leave if you'd like. I mean, you're probably going to kick me out anyways, just do it. Don't wait, please, get it over wi-"

"Hush, easy, my boy. You're very welcome here- we enjoy having you here." He places his hand gently under my chin and scratches slightly. I lean into the comfort for a second, before pulling back and taking a step backwards.

A silence settles over us and before long we both step into the kitchen and help set the table.

"Oh, dear you don't have to do that. Go and take your place." Martha smiles.

"Oh it's not trouble, ma'am." I smile back, whilst Washington grabs different plates of food.

"Sir, I can do that." I offer, still slightly unsure as to why they aren't using me as free labour.

"Don't worry, Alexander, I've got these. Go take your place." I hurry over and sit as commanded, both of the Washington's sitting either side of me soon after.

"What should I call you?" I mutter and they both look at each other subtly.

"Well, you can call us whenever you'd like, sweetie. My names Martha and his is George but you can call us whatever you think suits best." Martha grins.

"You can call me 'Xander, if you want." I whisper sheepishly.

"Thank you, 'Xander." George smiles and they both put food on their plates. I don't reach for anything, instead looking at the floor beneath the table.

"Here, I'll help you, sweetie." Martha reaches over and piles food onto my plate.

"Thank you." I look up and she simply nods in reply.

"Do you have any interests, Alexander? Hobbies? Passions?" George inquires.

"I enjoy reading... writing too. I love the theatre as well... not that I've ever been legally." I mutter the end but I can tell they both catch it, instead choosing to ignore it.

"Wow, writing? A very skilful trade. Have you ever written anything, Alexander?"

"Yes, I used to write stories and poems back when I lived in Nevis. I actually-" I freeze, suddenly realising what I'd said.

"Go on, what sorts of things do you like to write the most?" He urges, not speaking of what is just revealed.

"W-well, I-I..." I stumble over my words, losing all of the confidence I'd gained when we'd started speaking originally.

"It's okay, take a deep breath 'Xander. Breath, nice and slow." George guides and I follow his instructions, breathing slowly until my voice returns.

"I-I like to write... m-music, Yeah music, stories and a f-few articles about things..." I trail off, hoping that they won't think any less of me for creating my own stupid stories. Hey probably think I'm childish.

I look up and see them glance at each other again, a smile spreading on both of their faces.

"Music, huh? Can you play any instruments? Or do you sing?" George questions and I can already feel myself getting more anxious.

"I p-play piano. Mama taught me when I was younger. She was amazing, and we used to sing at the piano too, all kinds of songs. So now, I write music I can sing too. But, I haven't really written any in a while, with the cubs and all. I'd like to get back to it, I had a whole storyline and music going- about a neighbourhood who don't have much money and there's a blackout and one of them wins the lottery and another went off to college. But, the one who went off to college dropped out, yet she didn't tell her parents, so she hid it from them until she went back home. And the main guy owns a little shop but he wants to go back to the Dominican. But, the woman who won the lottery died, and everyone was really sad- but it's okay because they all remember her and tell her story. And the music was really coming along but I ran out of time." I say, all of it coming out like word vomit, unable to stop speaking once is began. I look up, expecting to see them looking disturbed or disgusted, but instead they just stare back at me, no emotion readable.

"Well, it seems you've got quite the imagination, Alexander. Maybe you could show us some of the music on the piano." George smiles, and it takes me a minute to understand what they mean.

"Wait... d-do you have a piano?" I hesitate to ask, not wanting to seem rude.

"We do indeed! It's been a while since it's been used but you're very welcome to play on it." Martha assures and they both guide me into the room adjoined to the kitchen. The piano is made of a dark brown wood, flawless keys looking as if they'd been polished and a small music book open on the stand.

"Wow... it's incredible." I move forward to run my hand over the keys but stop myself before I touch it.

"Go on, you can play if you'd like." George ushers and I slowly sit at the stool placed in front of it.

"C-can I actually use it?" I whisper in amazement and they both nod, smiling and waiting in anticipation.

"I'm a little rusty so It may sound like crap." I chuckle and they both laugh along with me. I press a few keys, before my hands follow the rhythm and are soon dancing over the keys.

I tap the keys as though touching a still pond, sending ripples of sound across the room. Closing my eyes briefly as though a bird mid flight- feeling the freedom of the wind beneath my wings. I fasten the pace slightly, racing up and down the keys so fast that I may as well be surfing them, barely penetrating the surface, instead gliding along with the tide.

As I slow down, exhilarated from the sudden familiarity, I take my hands away from the instrument and slowly turn to face the Washington's.

"Alexander... that was beautiful." Martha whispers, George looking at me with the smallest hint of a grin on his complexion.

"You've got quite the talent, Alexander." George smiles and I can't help but smile back, his joy seemingly infectious.

"T-thank you." I grin and they both chuckle quietly.

"G-George... do you think I can speak with you?" I mumble and he nods, Martha leaving the room to clear away the dishes.