Young Writers Society

He fell into silence for a minute, repeating the words that Bo had said in his head.

"...Bo?" he asked. His voice was quiet and hesitant. "...Why do you call me your friend?"

Bo's eyebrows jumped up slightly, and he looked over to Kartiel, blinking. His expression softened. "Well, we are friends, aren't we? I feel like we've been through enough together... like, yeah, we didn't start that way, but I like to think that now that you're more free there's nothing keeping you from being my friend or twisting your arm, so I don't have to overthink it as much." He reached up and gave Kartiel's shoulder a little pat. "I like what I see in you, and I enjoy you, and I love you, dude. That seems enough reason to call you friend to me."

"...Oh," Kartiel managed to get out, blinking as he stared at Bo. "...Thanks..."

Bo smiled and patted Kartiel's shoulder again before pulling away. "Of course, dude. I hope you can think of me as a friend too."

I hope you can think of me as a friend too.

"Of...Of course," Kartiel managed to get out. Bo wanted him to see him as a friend - he couldn't remember the last time that someone had wanted that. His gaze dropped down to his lap again. He just couldn't wrap his head around the fact that someone wanted to be friends with him after everything he had done.

Bo's smile grew a little and he nodded, leaning back into the couch and letting out a sigh after a moment as he sunk into the cushions.

"So what are some things you like to do, Kartiel? What are your interests?"