Lalli's wide, solemn eyes understood Emil in small measures from the moment they met–from the delicately smug upward curve at the ends of his lips to the air-puffed, self important posture. His spastic lapses in basic awareness, his love of impressing people, his kindness–nothing escaped Lalli's notice.
Emil didn't understand Lalli at first. But on the train from Mora to Ørensund he got a profound taste of Lalli's nature in a small sip–hyvää yötä–and was immediately struck. Then, the train was attacked. Emil, stripped of all falseness, clung closely to Lalli to protect him, fresh love flaring easily and instinctively. Lalli did not understand, but he felt the power behind Emil's actions.
Lalli liked watching Emil when Emil thought he was alone. Emil liked sleeping, and eating, and working, and passing the time near Lalli. Lalli liked Emil in small doses–when he was quiet, or contemplative, and very rarely when he was trying to impress.
Emil was always asking after Lalli. Advocating for Lalli. Lalli heard his name in Emil's mouth constantly. When Lalli was separated from his luonto, he could hear Emil speaking his name. Vakna tak, Lalli. Hallå, Lalli! Lalli... Lalli... Laaaaalli. Lalli's brain did not process these sounds, and he did not remember. But his soul knew Emil was calling for him.
Lalli resented Emil. He resented his inexperience, his easy life, his simple mindedness. Emil had never known real loss, thus was unable to know Lalli. Emil acted as if every wrong could be righted. His warm, clueless eyes and hopeful smile became a reminder that Lalli had almost believed Emil could reach him.
Emil tried to be good to Lalli, but wild, wounded Lalli was immature and lashed out at goodness. Emil could not believe the behavior Lalli considered acceptable. Or the amount of Lalli's bad treatment he willingly endured. Emil was slowly shedding pieces of himself–he felt fresh and new every day and didn't think he deserved the disdain. What he craved was encouragement, which Lalli was not particularly interested in giving.
Lalli didn't dream often. But, once, he dreamed he was asleep, wrapped tightly in Emil's arms. When Lalli woke, Emil was cold and dead. His eyelid, cheek, and lips, gently crushed where they had pressed against Lalli's hair, had frozen in place. Lalli refused to think of that dream again. He was already too aware that any of them could die at any moment.
Emil felt personally responsible for Lalli. More so when Tuuri passed away.
The group functioned as a team at times, a type of family at others. Varieties of love grew in patches and gradually spread. They were brave, but surviving was hard work. So, they protected each other. Lalli and Emil felt something strange together. They mostly ignored it. But in small, uncommon moments, one or the other would face his heart clearly.