Getting Maveth out of his shell seems to be much easier when food is involved, just like the strays.

He keeps glancing at the door and windows, as if he’s reminding himself of where they are. He also keeps looking at the kids and their adults at the other tables. 

But he isn’t flinching whenever there’s a particularly loud string of laughter from the children, or a clatter of pans from the kitchen. This is probably the most relaxed he’s been in a long time.

Which makes his desperation to leave the safety of the Hub even more insane.

Sure, he’s convinced that there’s some place out there that is somehow even safer than the Hub. I think it’s some kind of loneliness induced delusion. He seemed extremely adamant that this Paradise of his exists. I do kind of wonder what kind of evidence he was going to show me, but I’m worried if I bring it up again it’ll be even harder to convince him to not leave.

Clearly he isn’t stable enough to survive a whole lot longer alone.

I don’t know how I’m going to convince him to stay though, he keeps looking like he’s trying to soak up as much of civilization as possible before he leaves it, like he’s some kind of sponge that’s as dry as dust.

I have until morning to figure something out, but first I need to get him a bath. It was easier to ignore the smell when we were outside or surrounded by Morgie’s shoes since the smell of his shoe polish is strong. But Maveth reeks, which isn’t unusual with travelers who don’t have easy access to baths. But I do have access to a bath and I might just shove Maveth into it when we finish eating. Then I might burn his filthy clothes. They might have more of their original fabric than mine, but they have far more stains. Some look suspiciously like old blood but I’m not going to press on that particular subject much.

“I have a handful of unused battery packs, do you think that’ll cover our food?” Maveth asks, dragging my attention from the stain on his elbow to his face. He avoids looking me directly in the eye, as per usual.

“Oh don’t worry about that, our meals are already covered, the family who runs this place owes me a handful of favors,” I assure Maveth, just as he reached for his pack to presumably pull out the batteries he mentioned. “Save your batteries for your bread tomorrow.”

“How come they owe you a favor?”

“I helped them out with a rat problem they had a little while back,” I say easily. It’s not a complete lie, they were a couple of rat bastards, or at least that’s what Ivy called them. I miss Ivy, she was funny.

“Oh, uhm, that’s not a problem anymore, right?” Maveth asks, sounding a little concerned as he glances at the empty bowl and plate. The bowl is scraped clean and he ate every crumb off of the plate. I laugh a little.

“I wouldn’t have brought you here if it was, Maveth.”

He just nods before beginning to go through his pack again and for a moment I’m worried he remembered his proof from earlier, but instead he pulls out a worn jacket. A can with a ripped green and yellow label almost falls out of his poorly organized mess of a pack, but he catches it and swiftly stuffs it back inside. 

I watch as he pulls the slightly too small jacket on, his wrists sticking out and his shoulders causing the fabric to strain a little. It’s cleaner looking than the rest of his clothes though, and smells vaguely like mothballs.

“That seems like it’s a uh, tight fit on you,” I comment and his cheeks go a little red from embarrassment. I feel a little bad about that, I didn’t mean to make him feel embarrassed, especially not over a jacket.

“It’s fine, it’s pretty warm and fits in my bag well enough,” Maveth mumbles while pulling the already tight fabric tighter around himself.

“Tell you what,” I say after a too long pause in our conversation, “I have a couple jackets in my little rent-a-room. You’re more than welcome to try ‘em on and see if any fit you better than the one you have now.”

He chews on the inside of his cheek as he obviously thinks my offer over, subconsciously rolling his shoulders in his too small jacket. I’m a little surprised he didn’t just grab a different one while traveling, there must have been tons of them out there, in houses and such.

I’m a little worried he’s going to refuse my offer, him and his ridiculous need to make everything as even as possible. 

“Alright,” Maveth says finally, in a voice so low I almost miss the simple word. Maybe a full belly was the trick to earning his trust. I hope it was. It’d certainly make things simpler with this strange, albeit interesting, guy.

“Alright,” I echo with a grin, standing up from my seat. Maveth follows suit, zipping up his pack before slinging it around his shoulders. He always seems to have it around both of his shoulders, never just one. It’s like it goes from the ground to on his shoulders in a blink of an eye.

“Lead the way,” Maveth tells me, a ghost of a grin on his own lips. He still won’t look me in the eye. That’s fine, we’ll get there, I just know it.