Where I was guarded, he was thoughtful.
Where I expected rejection, he expected… possibility.
He made jokes no one else understood.
He remembered things no one else noticed.
And somehow, without trying, he made the orphanage feel less like a place we were stuck… and more like something we could survive together.
We did everything side by side.
Meals. Homework. Late-night whispers when the lights were supposed to be off.
When other kids got adopted, we’d sit quietly afterward, pretending it didn’t matter.
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