⎡ ???: ⎦

Goddesses, they were how old? Still, he felt it wrong to judge the other; he had his own personal and slightly embarrassing secrets that would only crumble his dignity into near non-existence if anyone were to find out…

“Your secret is safe with me, just… be careful where you choose to take it out. I tend to be quite oblivious majority of the time, and even I managed to catch you snuggling with it behind the building." 

Much, much, older than you. That however did not mean the spirit had other ideas or wants. One of which, was to hold tight to the little stuffed bear his aunt had first got him. The ratty thing was old, several pieces of it stitched up with makeshift pieces of cloth that did not match what-so-ever to the bears original brown fur.

Yet that did not seem to make Emil want to let go of it one bit more, fingers tightening and pulling it tighter to his chest.

   ”R-right…“ he mumbled into his bears fur, green optics refusing to lift from the bears little quilt-patch paws. He honestly didn’t care what people thought of him, this bear bore several memories, some not as pleasant, but ones he was not willing to part with easily. Anything that could keep him connected to a more human part of himself was what he kept, after all – ”I … I am sorry,“ his voice was meek with it’s sincerity, like a puppy with it’s tail between it’s legs, ”thank-you.“

   ”And I do m-mean it …“