"So, Gustave, you play Violin. You must be good at it too."  The girl noted looking at his tattered case on his back.

Gustave stared at her, she intrigued him. Not many people did, just the people who were special.

"You apparently know my name but I never got yours." He said in a quiet tone.

"Annabel," she said with a smile. "Just Anabel."

Gustave nodded in understanding. The air was cold and nipped at his cheeks. 

"Do you miss your dad Gustave?" She sighed looking up at the night sky.

He nodded silently. 

"I miss my dad." She sighed, "And my mum. They both died when I was little. I don't remember them but I have an idea of what they could have been like. I suppose there's a difference between loving what they could have meant to you and loving who they actually are. You know?

He nodded, he knew exactly what she meant.  

"Gustave, you should go home." She sighed, "You have a home to go back too, many of us are not so fortunate."

Gustave nodded again. He had thought about his father more in these last few months than ever.

"Gustave go home." she told him.

Something about this girl captivated him, he found his gaze directed to her lips, her eyes shining.

He listened.
What else was he to do when met with a voice as sweet as an angels.

But how would he get home? He had no money, barely enough to eat. Soon it would be winter and harder to jump trains.

It was if she read his mind. 

"I'll help you get there on one condition alright?"

He took a deep breath and nodded in agreement.

"You take me with you. Okay? That's all I ask of you."

He smiled faintly, knowing that his father would be so incredibly ecstatic to have another person around.

Well, maybe upon meeting Erik, she would change her mind. If not, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have her around. 

They shook on it, and so in a second, an eternity of friendship was born.

Gustave was going home.