Cry knew from his own experiences and from common sense that strangers were not to be trusted, whether you knew their name or not. So whatever had led him to trust this Pewds character was beyond his own thoughts. Currently, he was sat in a rather quiet and peaceful cafe, filled with only him, Pewds and the lovely lady who worked behind the counter who often insisted that Cry try a cake from behind the desk on the house. Cry had declined at first but when Pewds had leant forward and whispered “She doesn’t offer free cake to just anyone. She knows if you’ve been through a hard time” He tensed but conceded, standing and moving. He peered through the clean glass at the many delicacies that taunted him, each one making his mouth water. One caught his gaze however and made a point of holding it with its many delicious layers and dips in the icing that one would expect of a model for a cake box. Silently, as if reading Cry’s mind and agreeing with all concepts and ideas, she reached for the cake that he stared at and lifted it from the cabinet and placed it in his hands. Cry nodded gratefully and moved back to the table with Pewds, taking a seat. He moved to dig his hands into the food but Pewds caught him by the wrists. Cry’s eyes widened and he stiffened, pulling back his wrists. Pewds pulled back too, small electric shock travelling up his arms and making his hairs stand on end. Cry just cowered in his chair, legs drawn to his chest.
“Hey, it’s okay” Pewds soothed peacefully, a voice and tone so gentle that Cry found himself wanting to head more of the voice. “I was just going to give you a fork and a knife to cut the cake up with since it’s a messy one” His voice was still soft and gentle, wary of sparking more reactions, especially more negative ones.
“Y-Yeah...” Cry said, voice low and crackling slightly with repressed traumatic events. He picked up the knife and fork gently before slowly setting to work on cutting the cake into more manageable pieces before placing it in his mouth. The flavours melted and moulded into something new, an exciting tango across the his tongue which previously had only known the blandness of oatmeal and the taste of dirty water. Pewds smiled as he watched Cry eat with caution, tasting each piece as if the flavours would change with each piece. Pewds watched Cry for a moment longer before raising his voice.
“Cry... do you have a home?” He asked. Cry shook his head. “Would you... like to stay with me?”
“Stay... with you?” Cry asked, pausing from his meal momentarily to look up at the Swede with curiosity. Pewds nodded and Cry smiled.
“Please” He asked.
“Of course” Pewds answered.
