Bruce doesn’t like school.
He may excel in his classes, but he hates school. He would rather read on his own instead of listen to some teacher explain how to spell the simplest words. He would rather be anywhere else, but Guardian enjoys it. Guardian likes school. Guardian likes learning numbers and letters. Guardian likes when Bruce shares the world when he’s not interested in learning something he deems “stupid” like how to tell time. You only need to know the time of when his father comes home. He has the hands on the clock memorized for that already, so all other times are not important. Why should they be?
Bruce rubs his nose with his sleeve as he sits in the library. He doesn’t like the wooden chairs they’re too stiff and too high for him. But he doesn’t want to read in the children’s section. He doesn’t want the know it all librarian trying to steal his book away because “wouldn’t he like to read about dragons or play with the blocks?” He’s six he can do whatever he wants to do in the library and he’s not going to have the vulture snatch his book from his hands again because “this is above your reading level.”
So here he sits under a window in the corner of the library far away from the front desk and children’s section. Guardian grunts in approval before spreading warmth down from Bruce’s head to his fingertips. Bruce sighs happily letting the warmth flow through him as he begins to turn the pages. He reads through the pages laughing to himself softly feeling the constant warmth around his body intensify.
He giggles once again and feels a nudge from his head. More of a twitch of annoyance from Guardian. He sighs marking the book closed setting it by his side on the floor. He closes his eyes and let’s out a deep sigh. It’s easier this way than having to keep his eyes open to see Guardian. He takes a few deep breaths before the darkness of his eyelids change shape and form into clouds. He winces feeling the sand and wind move against him. He squints looking out to the vast land. It looks like a desert covered in various shades of pinks, yellow and oranges. Almost as if the area is constantly stuck during sunset and sunrise at the same time.
Bruce moves his feet or feels them moving through the orange sand slowly. He feels Guardian before he sees him. Guardian is growing up like him but he’s still the same as sand and wind mixed together. There’s no definite shape but Bruce knows it is Guardian. He feels their emotion as the wind whirls around him getting sand in his hair.
“Guardian,” he huffs annoyed feeling a jump and discord within the sandy winds.
Guardian is uncertain? It’s not something he has felt before it doesn’t feel normal to Bruce or to Guardian. He sighs taking a seat on the sandy ground crossing his arms. “You feel weird…why do you feel weird,” he asks the swirling sand.
The sand doesn’t answer him for a moment. It just moves like waves of an ocean before his eyes before showing a blurry and grainy image of him giggling at the book. He watches it repeat itself over and over again before the image disappears.
“Laughing. It’s laughing because it’s funny…it feels good right?” He asks not receiving an answer just a low hum and soft agreeing sound.
“It’s…hmm hard to explain. Many things can be funny or make people laugh.” He rubs his head frowning, “it feels nice to laugh and the book is funny. It’s like watching Looney Tunes with mom. She laughs and we both laugh and it’s good, nice. Not everything is funny but stuff that is harmless can be funny and feel like happiness?”
The sand makes no sign of recognition. It stills as Bruce stares at it before seeing a ripple move through the large body. It raises itself over Bruce before knocking Bruce back gently. The sand disperses and the wind chimes and sand ripples in symbols of laughter.
Bruce snorts feeling the same as Guardian, “yeah that’s funny…but not to me but yeah that’s why you laugh,” he smiles as the sand begins to ripple and settle down.