Chapter 5
Tom's P.O.V.
The next time I fell asleep I was back at my favorite sycamore tree. This is a dream… I wonder if I can control it. I sit down and try to summon my book. Not five minutes after I manage to summon the book that kid appears again.
I look over, sighing, "why do you keep appearing in my dreams?" I didn't mean to say it out loud. The kid stays silent, clearly not having any more answers than I do.
I see the kid shiver. The area around the tree is pleasantly warm so why would he be cold? Unless he's cold in the real world, why would he be sleeping somewhere so cold it invades the dream? "Are you cold?" Hadrian seems almost scared when he nods, Why? My eyes narrow in concentration as I summon a blanket for him.
"Thank you.." the kid mumbles, still looking down. I nod. Why hasn't he looked at me since he got here?
"Am I that awful looking? You haven't looked at me once since you got here," I say pointedly "Generally it's considered polite to look at people when you speak with them." Hadrian freezes, seeming to have an internal debate before looking up abruptly. My eyes narrow the moment I see the bruises and I lightly grab his chin to keep him from looking back down. When I find the kid that beat up a defenseless three year old I'm going to make them regret it, they won't touch anyone ever again. "Who gave you these?" My voice was soft but had a sharp edge.
The kid stays silent for a moment, looking away as well as he could "nobody"
I raise an eyebrow "Then where did those bruises come from? I've never known them to just appear," that had to be the stupidest thing the kid could have said.
"I… fell." He managed to say something stupider, like I would ever believe that.
"Right and I'm a bird" I pause for dramatic effect "Now the truth if you will" I demand.
It took him about half a minute with me staring at him and keeping my hand on his chin to realize I'm not going to let it go. "..my Uncle."
I freeze. I had thought, Billy Sparks or Dennis Bishop. Not his own blood, not a fully grown man. I hadn't even realized my hand fell.
"What are you reading?" Hadrian asks, looking back down as quickly as he could.
"Mistress Masham's Repose" I lower my voice to a dramatic whisper "It's about a young girl finding a secret on her crumbling estate, an entire community, only inches tall! But her guardians want to exploit the secret for money!"
The kid grins looking back up "will you read it to me?" He tenses, looking back down. I force down the anger that rises in my chest upon the unconscious confirmation that this wasn't the first time he was hit.
"Of course, but you'll have to pay attention. I don't read to just anyone," I grin trying to break the tension, I lean in a lower my voice to a conspiratorial whisper "the kids at my orphanage hate reading. It's a shame, really,"
He nods a grin stretched from ear to ear "they miss out on so much!" That was the loudest I'd ever heard him, not that it said much.
"You can read?" There are eight year olds who can't read at the orphanage.
"Not well.." the grin falls and one part of me wants to smack me for making that smile fall and the other part wants to bring it back. So without thinking I say…
"Then I'll help you, you read outloud and if you have any trouble I'll help you." I hand over the book, opening it and tapping the first page a couple times.
Hadrian hesitates for a second before he begins "Maria was ten years old. She had dark hair in two pigtails, and brown eyes the color of mar-mit?"
"Marmite, it's a sauce made from concentrated yeast. It's a really deep brown" I correct, nodding at him to keep going.
"Marmite, but more shiny. She wore speck-tackles" he looks at me in silent question
"Not quite, it's speck-tickles,"
Nodding he continues "She wore spectacles for the time being, though she would not have to wear them always, and her nature was a loving one. She was one of those tough and friendly people who do things first and think about them afterward. When she met cows, however, she did not like to be alone with them, and there were other dangers, such as her- Tom what's this word?"
"Governess, like a private teacher" How doesn't he know what a governess is?
"Such as her Governess from which she would have liked to have had a protector. Her main accomp-lish-ment," he looks up in another silent question and I nod that his pronunciation is correct and he can continue, "was that she enjoyed music, and played the piano well. Perhaps it was because her ear was good that she detested loud noises, and dreaded the fifth of No-vem-ber. This, however, with the cows, was her only weakness, and she was said to be good at games. Un-fort-un-ate-ly"
"Un-for-tun-ate-ly" I correct.
"Unfortunately she was an orp-han"
"It's Or-phan" I snicker at the mispronunciation. He looks at me brow furrowed, clearly not knowing that word. "It means someone without parents," my voice turns bitter as I look away. A tightness in my gut rearing its head.
"Oh, like me!" I look back at him, the tightness dissipating at the statement.
"Yeah, like us," I pause for a moment, feeling the tugging again. "It's time to wake up Hadrian" I see him nod and vanish as I put in a bookmark before waking up myself.