Derek was a little startled at the sudden hug and rush of emotion, though he caught her and tentatively patted her back soothingly, still a tad bit stunned at the force of her gratitude but glad he could help and make someone feel so thankful.
Isaac. Some part of her brain said, ‘Hebrew, the laughing one.’ She wasn’t sure why she knew that. He looked like a boy who might laugh a lot, but he tasted like a boy who was not sure it was okay to laugh. Did Derek make him feel safe too?
Keeping Derek between them, just in case, she came out from behind the couch arm and sat cross-legged, picking up the pen and paper lying on the table. ‘Is he like you?’ she wrote. ‘He tastes like you. Do I have to leave?’
Derek scooched over closer to Isaac to give her room on the end of the couch and watched as she wrote. Eyebrows raised as he read the paper, he answered. “He is like me. You do not have to leave. What do you mean he tastes like me?”
She eyed the spot on the couch, and stayed put. ‘in my mind.’ She tapped at her temple for emphasis, and added, ‘you are both a little jagged inside, and wild. how can we both stay? you only have one bed’