Time had a way of stretching at St. Araminta’s, particularly for Peter. The days dragged on, each one feeling like it was much longer than the last, and yet, they blurred together as well. He had always known that nothing would change — but for some reason, the arrival of Lily was different. It was like the air had shifted, just slightly, and Peter couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to happen. Whether that something would be good or bad, he didn’t know.

  Every day, he would find himself stealing glances at her. Lily didn’t act like any of the other kids, and that made her both fascinating and frightening at the same time. She didn’t seek approval like the others. She didn’t try to fit in. She simply was.

  In the beginning, she ignored him, just as he ignored her. But soon enough, their paths crossed more often — in the hallways, at meal times, and sometimes even in the yard. Lily never seemed to care whether anyone liked her or not. She didn’t try to impress anyone, and that made Peter uneasy. He was used to people either avoiding him or laughing at him, and when they didn’t do that, he didn’t quite know what to expect.

  It was the afternoon when the next encounter happened. Peter had spent most of the day in his usual spot, tucked away in the broom closet, drawing. His crayon strokes created shapes, castles, and creatures, his mind wandering far away from the walls of the orphanage. He often retreated here when things got too loud, too overwhelming. This was where he could be himself, where no one would judge him.

  But then, the door creaked open.

  Peter didn’t look up immediately. He knew the sound of the door. It was always the same. But when he heard footsteps, closer than usual, he finally turned to see her standing there.

  Lily.

  Her arms were crossed, and she was leaning against the door frame, eyeing him with curiosity. Her gaze was intense, but it wasn’t mean. It was just… curious.

  “What are you doing in here?” she asked, not unkindly. Her voice was still sharp, like a knife, but there was something softer in it now. Maybe it was the way her eyes looked at him, or maybe it was because she hadn’t immediately mocked him like everyone else did.

  Peter looked down at the floor, feeling a little embarrassed. He wasn’t used to anyone asking him questions — not like that. Not in a way that felt real. He shrugged, his voice barely a whisper. “I just… draw.”

  Lily’s eyes flicked to the drawings scattered across the floor. She raised an eyebrow. “That’s a lot of castles.”

  Peter nodded, unsure of how to explain. He wasn’t sure if she’d understand. “I like them,” he said simply. “They’re… safe.”

  If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  Lily didn’t say anything for a moment. She just watched him, and then, to his surprise, she walked into the closet, crouching down beside him. She looked at the drawings, then at Peter. Her gaze softened, just a little.

  “You’re different,” she said quietly.

  Peter froze. He hadn’t expected her to say that. “What do you mean?”

  Lily looked up at him with an almost knowing expression. “You don’t act like the others. You don’t try to fit in. You just… exist.”

  Peter didn’t know how to respond to that. He wasn’t used to compliments — or even just neutral statements, for that matter. His world had always been filled with taunts, laughter, and distance. But this, this was different. It was strange, but it felt… comforting, somehow.

  “I guess I don’t,” he said softly. “I don’t really fit in anywhere.”

  Lily seemed to consider this for a moment. Then she shrugged and sat down on the floor beside him. “Yeah, me neither.”

  Peter turned to look at her, trying to read her face. For the first time, he wasn’t sure whether she was being sarcastic or honest. She didn’t seem like she was lying, but then again, Peter didn’t trust people easily. He had been hurt too many times before.

  Lily stretched her legs out in front of her and sighed. “This place is boring.”

  Peter could only nod in agreement. “Yeah. But… I guess it’s not that bad. It’s just… safe. For some people.”

  Lily laughed, a short, almost cynical sound. “Safe?” she repeated. “Yeah, for some people. Not for me.”

  Peter looked at her, intrigued. “What do you mean?”

  Lily shrugged again, her eyes distant now, as though she was thinking about something far away. “I’m just saying… I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t ask to be here.”

  Peter felt a pang in his chest. He understood what she meant. He hadn’t asked to be here either. No one ever did.

  “Yeah,” Peter said quietly. “I didn’t either. But… you get used to it.”

  Lily didn’t respond at first. She just kept staring at the drawings, her eyes scanning the castles and dragons. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it,” she said softly.

  Peter didn’t know what to say. He wanted to tell her that it was okay — that maybe things would get better — but something about her made him feel like his words wouldn’t be enough.

  There was silence for a while, broken only by the sounds of the orphanage outside the broom closet. The other kids were laughing, playing, or doing whatever it was they did to fill the time. But in this small, cramped space, there was a strange kind of peace.

  Peter glanced at Lily again, watching her closely. She didn’t seem like she was going to leave anytime soon. And, for some reason, Peter didn’t want her to. There was something about her presence that felt different, something that made him feel less alone. Even if he didn’t completely understand her, even if he wasn’t sure if he could trust her yet, there was something about the way she just… was.

  And in that moment, as they sat in silence, Peter realized that for the first time in a long while, he wasn’t completely alone.