Sparrow

you had been reading for a while whenever omen finally stood from his chair. you’d been a little too engrossed in what you were reading, and it took you a second to blink back to what was actually happening. the phantom took a few tentative steps toward you. he was quiet for a few beats before he finally spoke.

“can i sit?” he asked. one hand made the slightest inclination toward the seat next to you on the sofa.

you nodded and pulled your feet in a little to give him space. “oh, sure. how’s your tree?”

“good. your book?”

“it’s going good, i like this book. although the main character is kinda pissing me off. i know it’s supposed to be a personality trait or whatever but— yeah, it’s a good book.” you stopped before letting yourself go off on a tangent.

there were another few beats of silence. he tilted his head ever so slightly, as if asking for you to elaborate. when you didn’t, he leaned slightly closer and pretended to read the words on the page, although he wasn’t paying much attention.

“tell me.” he said, leaning back to where he had been before and looking over to you expectantly.

“tell you what? about the character?”

“the book.” omen said. “you seem to like it.”

you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. you would jump at any chance to tell someone about whatever book you had read or read about that day, but the offer being laid out to you sparked a warmth in your chest.

you weren’t sure how long you had been talking, but it had to have been a while. your mouth was dry, but you had managed to spill out every single coherent (and some incoherent) thought you’d had about the book thus far. and you couldn’t be happier about it, either.

omen hummed when you finished. he didn’t say anything, except mutter a small “thank you,” before collecting his bonsai and leaving the room. you settled back into the spot you had been before, and continued reading.

the interaction had been strange to you, but you tried not to think too hard about it. of all people, omen was one of the last you expected to hold a conversation with, although was it even a conversation? had he even enjoyed it? or did he grow tired halfway through?

in all honesty, you had presumed the latter.

that was until the next afternoon, anyway. you heard a small knock on your bedroom door, and padded over to open it. in the hallway stood omen, bonsai tree and pruning scissors in tow.

“hey,” you smiled. “what’s up?”

“can i…” he trailed off for a moment while he thought of what to say. then, he held up his bonsai tree and nodded towards it, indicating he was referring to it. “…and you tell me about your book?”