#askthestork

Friv had been sensing it for a while now. That he was different. Slightly off. This person, this child, whoever it was, was not her Valentine. He may look like him, talk like him, get into the same messes, but he did not feel the same.

Not by along shot.

The imposter had everyone tricked. Even right now he was acting sweet as punch to his mother, using that mischievous grin that everyone was so fond of. He was trying to be slick, to talk his way out of a grounding like he always did. 

So, if he acted the same, how did Friv know that this copy of her charge wasn't, in fact, the boy she had been entrusted to care for? Simple. He ignored her.

Every time Friv tried to talk to him, to help him, to guide him, he would act like he couln't hear him. And when he would get close to hurting himself right in front of her, he would just look at her with those eyes.

Those eyes she could not explain.

They were like emerald daggers glinting from underneath his mop of red hair, daring Friv to try and stop him. And then he'd jump off the building.

But Friv always saved him. Why?