OS The Little Dragon

“Sorry,” Xeris mumbles as you clean up his bloody nose. You shouldn’t have to dirty your hands touching him. “I should’ve stood up for myself.”

It’s what he always says, but he never has the courage to fight back against the other children in the village. You’re the only child his age who doesn’t treat him poorly. His only friend. Xeris feels himself tear up.

He can’t cry.

“Don’t be mad,” he says, sniffling. The villagers whisper he’s cursed, that his mother fell in love with a dragon and died giving birth to him. Xeris doesn’t feel very dragon-like.

Tears brim in his eyes.

What’s the point of being part dragon if he can’t do anything? He’s still weak. Xeris can’t even protect you. Useless. So useless. He owes you everything and can give you nothing.

His cheeks feel wet. He’s not supposed to be crying, he’s supposed to be strong. “I’m sorry.”

Xeris has never had anyone important to him. The orphanage owners didn’t care for him, and none of the children did either. For eight years—every single second of his life—he’s been unloved. Then he’d met you last year. His world changed. He was finally more than a cursed child, more than his dragon blood.

He got to be your friend.