bambi eyes || tradley

6. familiarity

"Understand." The small boy frowned once he was handed a spoon. "I do not need a weapon, Tris. I can take care of myself."

"It's an eating utensil." Tristan scooped a little piece of the chocolate dessert into the spoon and extended his arm out for him. The curly-haired boy questioningly examined the plastic spoon before reaching out to pick up the piece of cake resting on it with two fingers.

Tristan groaned out of frustration and shoved the spoon in his mouth, startling the small boy.

"Oh," Bambi said, happily chewing. He smiled once he swallowed and opened his mouth widely for the older boy. "May I eat more, please?"

"Sure, but you're feeding yourself, okay?" Tristan informed him. He placed the spoon into his small hand and rushed off to the door, his bookbag slapping on his back behind him.

The curly-haired boy questioningly watched the blue-eyed man disappear behind the door. He frowned once it slammed behind him, slightly rattling the walls before silence gradually settled over the small flat. Bambi neglected the cake on the counter and stumbled over towards the large window, digging his knees into the couch's cushions. Sad brown eyes watched as Tristan's aircraft backed away from the flat, away from the curly-haired boy, and quickly inched further down the road until it was so small, Bambi's vision could no longer make it out.

The feeling was too familiar.

The young boy pouted at the loss of the older boy before hesitanly picking himself up from the couch and dragging his body back to the kitchen.

"I like food," he thought out loud. "Food does not leave like humans."

Forty minutes later, the curly-haired boy sat on the couch, contemplating what he should do with himself until Tristan's return. He wondered what he usually did when he was alone, but the brown-eyed boy didn't remember a lot about himself. Whenever he tried to rewind - before he woke up in Tristan's flat - his mind always ran blank, and then somehow Tristan's face would appear, intimidated and curious, before his mind fell into blankness again. He was confused, and he wasn't sure where the image of the blond came from or how he ended up with Tristan at all, but he wasn't exactly upset about ending up in his flat. The twenty-one-year-old could be rather hospitable when he wasn't shouting, swearing, and sighing.

The boy pulled himself onto his sock-covered feet and aimlessly roamed through the small flat before he found himself in Tristan's room again. He paused once he passed by the photo of Tristan as a child. It was somehow captivating. Bambi wondered what he looked like when he was little, and how small he was. It saddened him to think about it, because he had no idea. Not even a picture to remind him.

Peeling his eyes away from little Tristan, a gasp left his mouth at the sight of the twenty-one-year-old's flash drive neglected on the nightstand. He remembered Tristan telling him he needed it for a group project in class, and it was really important. Bambi carefully picked up the stick with two fingers and rose it to his face. He knew Tristan told him not to leave the house, but leaving would be exceptional, right? The blue-eyed boy told him it was important, and he needed it. Bambi assumed it was okay to break the rules, because it was for a good cause, and Tristan couldn't possibly be angry with the small boy for leaving his apartment to save the day.

So Bambi pocketed the flash drive and left.

. . .

Once the curly-haired boy stumbled down the staircase, he realised he had no idea where he was going. He assumed he should've contemplated his actions before he decided on leaving the flat, but he was already outside and down the staircase. So, there was no reason to turn back now.