The air around them stilled.
For a moment, all was quiet. Klaus could hear the wind howling outside. The fire's crackle seemed to amplify in volume. Klaus was more than concerned at the silence that enveloped the room, and his concern only grew whenever Jesper's face twisted into a horrifying mixture of half-developed emotions. His eyes grew wide as tears threatened to spill in ungodly amounts, and the boy clamped his hands over his mouth, trying desperately to silence the harsh sobs ripping through his throat. Klaus moved his hand up to cup the nape of Jesper's neck worriedly.
"H-hey, Jesp, breathe, okay? Breathe," the woodsman coached.
Jesper shook his head vigorously, moving one hand away from his mouth only to wipe the tears away as they fell. The postman looked like he was straining; holding back these tears was almost just as painful as shedding them. Klaus sighed and stood to his feet. Without warning, he moved slowly to embrace the kid who was trembling in his seat. At first, Jesper flinched back, a strangled gasp escaping his lungs. He was thrown into a fit of spiraling coughs, each one rattling his thin frame aggressively. It was in those desperate moments whenever he clung to Klaus, his voice finally revealing itself in a few hitched breaths and sharp cries. The woodsman could feel the pain radiating from the kid, and it made his skin crawl. He felt awful for Jesper, and the more he sat there and held him, the more he realized that the kid had been suffering alone... silently, for months. No. For years.
"You're doing great, Jesp," Klaus encouraged quietly. "That's it. In and out." He ran one hand up and down Jesper's back while the other cradled his head against his chest. "I'm sorry, kid. I didn't mean to make you upset."
Against his chest, Jesper shook his head, sniffling as another cry was muffled by the fabric. Slowly, the boy pulled his face, which was now as red as a tomato and drenched in tears, away from Klaus' shirt. The old woodsman thought he was prepared for what was to come, but nothing could've helped him predict the appropriate reaction. Jesper cleared his throat as if the action of even trying to speak hurt him, and mustered;
"N-no, th-that was... N-nobody's... J-just, thank y-you..."
Klaus stared, absolutely shocked out of his mind, without the slightest clue on how to proceed. Jesper's voice was small, but it also had a twinge of something else hidden beneath it. Determination? Hope? There was some personality there, and Klaus considered himself lucky to hear at least a little bit of it.
The old woodsman finally settled on a smile, pulling the boy back into his arms. "Of course, Jesper. I meant every word."
It was true. Klaus hadn't liked the kid much at first.
The more he thought back on the months that had come to pass, the more he felt a sense of guilt for his feelings. Still, he knew he couldn't let that halt him in his process of building a solid foundation with the kid. Jesper had healed rather quickly, though his knuckles still had to be covered most of the time. The more Klaus had pressed him, the more he learned how much Jesper had tried to fight back. The kid had landed a few blows on the perps who managed to jump him, and the old woodsman couldn't help but feel a sense of pride whenever he thought about it. Jesper might've been small and non-threatening, but he had proven to Klaus that he was resilient.
Life in Smeerensburg had continued as normal for a short while after Jesper had healed, but small things were beginning to change. For instance, Alva and the postman were finally getting along. The two would sometimes make idle conversation in the form of letters or sign language since Jesper was teaching the woman whenever he had time. Both of them figured it would come in handy in the future, especially if Alva still wished to pursue a career in teaching, which everybody knew she did. Mogens had taken a particular liking to the boy, as well, and acted as his personal guardian whenever the two were out and about. If anyone looked at the kid wrong or even blinked in his direction, the old ferryman was on them in an instant, barking at them to mind their own business unless they were looking for trouble. Even though most of his attempts to protect Jesper made the postman flustered, something in Klaus told him that he appreciated it.
What's better is that the children of Smeerensburg, both Ellingboes, and Krums, were noticing Jesper and his attempt at the life he did not really want in the first place. Whether or not they pitied him at first didn't matter, because, in a few short weeks, none of them would leave him alone. They noticed that he often hung around with the old toymaker that lived out of town, and would send in letters in small, choppy handwriting begging for a new toy or two. The more the kids hung around him, the more Jesper decided to use his voice. It was hard for him, as he'd explained to Klaus because it almost hurt too much to use his throat in the first place. However, the more he grew out of his shell, the more he put emphasis on improving his speaking. Klaus couldn't remember feeling as warm as he felt in those upcoming months, especially with Jesper staying in his cabin as his guest most of the time, seeing as the postal office was in dire need of repairs. Until then, the woodsman had insisted on the kid staying under his roof. With Jesper's growing confidence, Klaus noticed that he, too, was changing. He did not offer cold glares at strangers he didn't know, and he went into town a little more than he used to. It took a lot of getting used to, but with Jesper around, it was a little less hard.
No, Klaus hadn't liked Jesper at first.
But the kid had a knack for sticking around.