I do not doubt in what he says. It is always to listen to others and take on their ideas and merge them with your own. Though not everyone believes this and so I do not normally attempt to hold my breath that any such thing is possible. After all during our discussion not once does he concede and allow me to win. I don't either, but that is because I know I have more to prove in my self-worth. He may have overwhelming confidence, but I am still learning my way taking the steps in order to figure out just what I am. I know I am eighteen now, a very young adult, but that doesn't mean I have everything figured out. I'm still trying to find myself through this mess of a life. Yet I remain firm and flexible, as best as I possibly can, and no one expects me to amount to anything. Which is fine by me. Frost seems so very sure of himself. He remains firm and apathetic. Males are never attuned to their emotions and I am not surprised that he remains so insensitive and indifferent, allowing his ego to show off to make up for his lack of emotions. A sad thing really, that this is what males do, hide. I hear that soft chuckle rumble up from his throat as his eye looks at me and I just stare silently back, my face soft and yet unreadable. I could feel my lips twitch as I allow him the honor of such a simple zing that I retort gently with my own, a beautiful simper on my face when I finish.

"The more terrifying thing would be that I knew you dreamt of me."

To dream about an individual, an object, thing, or idea, means you are craving to possess such a thing. To know that someone wanted me and that I contained such a high value was astounding, and completely unrealistic. I speak in truth although my tone suggests mockery and I wonder could he pull apart between the two. I know he is studying my face as he looks at me and I keep my soft complexion at ease wanting to give him a tough time. While he eases himself on the couch I allow myself a moment to relax and be out from under his scrutiny. Yet it is shortly limited. That question of who had died causes me to flinch and grow suddenly cold. I know it has been two years, but it is extremely difficult. I do not speak about it. I never do. Any time it is brought up I simply ignore it, because I cannot bring myself to face with it. I have dealt with it all on my own terms and I have stuffed it behind me. Now that he wants to bring this part of my past up prickles me and I think he knows it. Though I reply in such a way to deflect it as best as I can. Only one particular kind of death can make me, or anyone else, grow up. Quietly I listen as he begins to shrug off his own personal suffering though I do not believe he suffered much with the way he passes it over. I keep my eyes over him as I use this rare advantage to be above him. Softly I mumble considerate words.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

It is the least I can do and say. I am still and quiet as I sit perched on the arm of the couch. Yet when he suddenly gets up I watch him carefully as he easily strides over to my side. I am not sure why he got so quick stepped but I am curious. His apology is met only with my silence as my eyes look to the ground. My one leg swings side to side as I try not to think of my parents. I know life can be cruel and hard, but that doesn't mean I can't still miss them. I notice how he pulls his white blonde hair back and I am shocked to see that I can see his two eyes, one of them a faded violet, blind. I do not say anything. It isn't my place, but I wonder if it has something to do with the other Were that died. He is far too close to me. For some reason he likes closeness. I can feel his warm breath tickle the side of my face and my eyes widen when I feel his lips press gently on my cheek. His voice is soft, gentle and I am shocked by such a thing. I don't really know what to say as I hear his language change momentarily as he unlocks the door. I turn around and notice him leave without looking back and I do not know these emotions that are welling up inside. Quickly I relock the 5 locks and step back and sit on the couch, extremely puzzled. Yet as my I hear the locks suddenly start to unlock I turn my head, ready to speak aloud should it be Frost again, but my eyes widen as I sigh softly to greet the one I did not want to see.

"Hello Uncle Azrael."

Calliel Alosi

Now I'm Unbreakable, It's Unmistakable