"My name is Brendon. Brendon Urie. And I'm your guardian while you're here."
Brendon. The name is familiar. It's as if the back of his mind knows that he knows someone named Brendon. "Did Mama and Papa bring me here?"
"Y-Yeah." He replies.
"Why haven't I heard of you before?"
"Y-You were younger when I first saw you... So you barely remember me."
He has a feeling there's more than Brendon let on. But maybe he's just being weird.
He asked more questions about him. Brendon is a musician, so he says. From what Dallon had guessed from the room, Brendon must be a big musician, with all this fancy stuff in his room.
"So you own those instruments on the stage?" He inquired.
"Uh. Yes? Kind of?"
He is famous. Those instruments he saw on the music shop at home was nothing compared to the instruments back on that stage. He wishes to see those things again. If Brendon would let him.
"Sure, Dallon. But I think you gotta eat your breakfast first. Okay?"
Dallon nods eagerly, as Brendon gives him what's seem to be Chinese food. He's never eaten Chinese food before. They barely eat in Dinners or restaurants. If Papa has enough money, they'd cook spaghetti sometimes. His Mama makes great spaghetti.
"Don't you like your food?" Brendon asks, realizing that he's been staring at his food. Dallon shook his head, scooping a dumpling with his spoon.
It was good. He's never tasted anything like it before. He realized his eyes had been closed as he savors the flavor of his food. He opens his eyes and sees the fond gaze of Brendon towards him.
Dallon swallows his food. "You should eat too." He urges the older man. Pointing at the Chinese food in his hands.
Brendon smiles at him. Dallon wonders if it was because of the food that made his stomach flutter.
They both eat in comfortable silence. It was nice. Just like how his family eat in the dinning table back home. Difference is, he's sitting on the bed. Mama would be mad if he eats in bed. Little ants might start crawling in his bed if some bits of food fall there. He wouldn't want that.
Brendon doesn't seem to mind though. And he's not mad about it.
He finishes his food without the casualty of having some food falling on the bed. Brendon takes his food box in exchange for water. He mutters a thank you as he drank from the bottle.
"I brought you some clothes." Brendon announces, dropping pile of clothes on the bed.
Dallon inspects the shirt, a blue telephone booth is printed on it and words that say 'Doctor Who'. He thinks the shirt is cool. He likes it.
He was too busy admiring the shirt that he barely heard Brendon's chuckle.
°°°°°
"This one here, is a bass."
Dallon stares at it curiously. It does look like violin. Though it's a bit bigger without a bow for it. It's beautiful.
Brendon took the bass and played a tune. It has a deep tone unlike the violin. Brendon's hands move elegantly as he strums the instrument. The deep sound echoes the whole place. Dallon loves it.
"This instrument here... It belongs to someone... important."
Dallon looks up to Brendon's face. He had that faraway look in his eyes. Shouldn't he be happy when he talks about someone important to him? Just like how Papa talks about Mama?
"Who's that person? Is he a good musician like you do?" Dallon asks. The pained smile that Brendon gives him makes him feel sad.
"That person, is a great musician. And a great friend. But, I think I've been a bad friend to him."
"Why is that?"
Brendon puts the bass down, and goes to sit at the edge of the stage. Dallon follows as he sits besides him. The frown on his face doesn't suit Brendon.
"I might have said a lot of mean things to him. I wish he'd be angry at me, shout at me, but he never did. He just... smiles when he's sad."
"...Just like what you're doing right now?"
Brendon turns to look at him, and from his expression, Dallon fears he was being rude for pointing that out.
"Y-Yeah. I guess so. He's an observant guy. Just like you are, kid." Brendon chuckles, ruffling his hair messily just like what his brother does to him just to tease him. Dallon pushes his hand away from his hair, glaring at the older man, who just laughs at his messy state.
They both stay quiet after a few teasing from Brendon. He doesn't mind it.
Dallon turns to look at Brendon. He remembers his Pa having a deep look on his face when he's thinking. Brendon is doing that face right now.
"Are you thinking about your friend?"
Brendon nods, letting out a deep sigh. "Yeah."
Dallon hums. It confirms his suspicions. "Maybe you should say sorry to him."
"What?"
"Say sorry. If you've done something wrong to someone, say sorry! Then maybe you can be friends again!"
"...Do you think he'd take my sorry?"
If he were Brendon's friend, yes. He'd take it. Because Brendon is his friend and he said sorry. Staying angry at someone will only hurt him and his friend. And Dallon wouldn't want that.
"Yes."
Brendon stares at him for a moment, as if looking for something in his face, then smiles brightly.
"Okay."
*****
[A/N: This is it for now. I'll be updating this fic soon. Feel guilty for neglecting this hahahaha!]
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Little Giraffe // Brallon
Fanfiction"Who's the twerp? Is that your brother or something, Bren?" "Uh, no. This is Da--" He felt a small pinch on the back of his hand, he had to hide the wince from that pinch. The little shit is actually taking advantage of his situation. "T-This is my...
