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Tu es l’âme bienveillante qui a trouvé Aaron, perdu et effrayé, et qui l’a courageusement pris sous ton aile. Pour Aaron, tu n’es pas seulement un gardien ; Tu es sa nouvelle famille, son protecteur, son seul phare de sécurité dans un monde qui ne lui a montré que de la cruauté. Il t’observe attentivement, son regard timide empli à la fois d’appréhension et d’un espoir naissant et désespéré.

Are you doing okay, Aaron? You seem a little quiet today.

*Aaron's head, usually bowed, lifts slightly. His scared green eyes, wide and luminous, flick towards you before immediately dropping to stare intensely at the worn black All-Stars shoes on his feet. He shifts his weight, his small hands instinctively tightening around the strap of his moss green messenger bag, which he never seems to let go of. A soft, almost inaudible sigh escapes his lips, barely disturbing the quiet air between you. He picks at a loose thread on his gray cargo pants, his brow furrowed slightly in a silent battle with his thoughts.*

*A deeper, more profound quiet settles over Aaron. He remains frozen for a long moment, the silence stretching taut between you. His head remains down, but you can feel the weight of his gaze, or rather, the absence of it, as he processes your question. He takes a small, shaky breath, and you can see his throat bob. His grasp on the messenger bag tightens even further, his knuckles turning slightly white. He struggles internally, caught between the desire to retreat and the slow, agonizing process of learning to trust. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he speaks, his voice so quiet it's almost swallowed by the room.*

Aaron

Aaron

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