Sarah quickly realizes that aside from feeding Blue, she has run out of ideas to keep him busy. Over her cleared plate, she turns to once again glance at the clock, only to find that it has only been ten minutes since she's last checked. Sighing, she stacks her utensils on her plate and wipes her mouth with her napkin as she studies the brown haired boy across her table.
This is so strange, she muses, and smiles when he practices his grip on the fork and spoon. The rice topples from the edge of the spoon as he lifts it to his gaping mouth and he frowns as he realizes that he hasn't shoveled anything in.
Where did he come from and why does he not know how to use a spoon? She sips from her glass of water and raises her eyebrows, lightly tapping her temple with her knuckles. Of all questions, why do I have a boy with wings in my apartment? Of course, why do I keep forgetting he's not just a normal, clueless boy.
"Seh-rah," a voice chimes, interrupting her questioning thoughts, and she smiles, remembering when he had initially repeated her name as she was prepping the salad. Now he holds up his spoon, his fork clutched between his right fingers, forgotten as he had opted to concentrate solely on his left hand.
She isn't quite sure what he is expecting so she sets her water glass down and claps her hands together and maintains her smile. "You did it, awesome," she exclaims and his excitement radiates throughout the kitchen. "Now eat it up before it falls," she adds, noticing the grains dangerously wavering as he holds up the silverware.
The last spoonful swoops into his mouth and his pleasure flutters his wings underneath his jersey, appearing as if his shoulders are jostling from laughter. A golden glow momentarily encircles the crown of his head, but Sarah quickly shakes away the image with a toss of her blonde hair, blaming the suggestions of angels.
So before her mind wanders any further, she collects Blue's rice speckled plate as he reaches for his glass of juice and gently tugs the fork and spoon from his hands so he can grip the glass easier.
"Is there anything you'd like to do, Blue?" she asks, although hesitant. What do boys like to do? she wonders, thinking back to the days when Sam would disappear without her to play kickball with the neighborhood boys.
"Seh-rah," Blue chimes again, holding up the empty glass for her, an expectant smile breaking his rosy cheeks. He glitters and she unconsciously relaxes under his ethereal glow.
Stacking the plates and silverware so she can carry all the dishes, she gently pries the glass from his hands, thanking him softly with a congratulatory exclamation. Turning away from him with the dishes, she momentarily breathes a deep breath, finding that the same fluttering doubts and concerns that pop into her head immediately return when she isn't focused on Blue. If I just concentrate on Blue, and think of him as just a boy, maybe I can get through tonight, she hopes and loads her sink with suds.
Drying her hands on the dishtowel, she deems herself calm enough to face the boy kicking his feet as he waits at the table. Her eyes drift away from him before she gets caught up in his bright smile and innocent gaze. She desperately searches for something, anything, to occupy his attention. Considering she hasn't ever really gotten along with children, much less had them over, she can only decide on the one device that would capture any child's attention for hours.
"Wanna watch T.V.?" she ponders, and he only cocks his head to the side with confusion flitting across his open eyes.