"Is that your natural hair color?" His voice purred, interest sparked the moment he saw the child with bleach-blonde colored hair, no roots. "What are you doing here? You know the sick live here baby? You know we're all sick? My You couldn't be more than 9 or 10 No? How old are you sweetie?" He watched those precious soft, pink lips move just barely to formulate an answer, but no words were heard. "How old are you?"
"Fifteen? Are you really? That's fascinating.. I would never have guessed." If anyone knew what a fifteen-year-old boy looked like, it was someone who ate one. He couldn't have even been 90 pounds. "Your voice hasn't even dropped." Hazel eyes scanned down the form. The crookedly buttoned shirt that hung on the boy's shoulders, much to big, showed off the pale skin that dipped underneath the clothing as well as the boy's freckles to some extent. He loved it... they were like little sprinkles that kissed his skin, adding to the sweetness of his