"Tim," Ivo said softly from the doorway. "Can I talk to you?"
I looked up at him with a forkful of rice halfway to my mouth. I had already gotten most of it on the sofa and I could see him watching the wavering fork anxiously.
"Sure," I replied casually. "What is it?"
It alarmed me that he moved to sit beside me. I put the fork down and tried to discern his facial expression. His hand stroked along my leg in a soothing manner and he wasn't looking directly at me.
"I wanted to talk to you about Leythe," he said slowly. His hand stopped on my leg. "Is that okay with you?"
Ivo wanted to talk about my school? The last time I had brought it up he practically shouted at me and made it clear that I shouldn't mention it again.
"Em, yeah. I guess."
"Okay," he confirmed, looking lost. Evidently he hadn't planned on getting this far. "So, em," he started. "I didn't mean what I said last time," he said in a rush. "I don't think it was your fault, I mean, you were only a kid."
He picked at the arm of the sofa.
"I just want you to know that I'm here for you," he said rather awkwardly. "You know, if you want to talk about what they," he swallowed visibly, "they did to you."
We sat in silence for a few minutes before I moved to put my plate on the floor. His eyes followed me warily. He probably thought I was about to storm off and lock myself in the bathroom but instead I pushed his arms open and snuggled into his chest. Initially I felt him tense up, trying to understand the situation but he relaxed into it. We stayed like that for a while. The movement of his chest and his soft breathing was soothing and he ran his fingers through my hair. It was such a nice moment that I didn't want to ruin it by discussing Leythe but Ivo had reached out to me and I didn't want to disappoint him.