Smiles
The way he looks, sometimes, like I've just kindled a flame he'd forgotten existed. No, not forgotten. Hidden from himself, because he didn't want to taint its happiness with longing. To forget was easier than to feel the absence. Catch him off-guard, however, and his face lights up momentarily. He forgets it's not there.
I hate it when he smiles. He'll look at me but see straight through. He's not smiling at me, not really. It's what I've said, what he remembers.
"Where'd you get this plane?" I ask.
"Dex made it for me." He says, and smiles.