02-07-2008, 01:29 AM
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It was with that knowing sort of look that Valentine knew that the kid's folks wouldn't be coming for him. If they did, it wouldn't be for a good reason. It was very much like the sad sort of story that his mother had told him about when she had described just how things went about. How life itself was often a bit more like a cesspool than a meadow of wild flowers. He wasn't sure if he could live with something like that, but at the same time he found himself highly apathetic to it all. Valentine chalked it up to the fact that Phasma had only recently died and here he was, trying to busy himself. His gold-eyed gaze lingered between the red-haired woman and the boy, not sure whether or not to say anything, or to leave them both to their own devices.[/html]