"Would you still be happy, when I am gone?"

"Yes."

In the wintry landscape, their footsteps echoed through the silence, the crisp sound of snow crunching beneath their feet. The question hung in the air, heavy with uncertainty, and the response that followed was terse, almost monotonous. It lacked embellishment, yet it carried a profound weight, leaving behind a dry stillness that was only interrupted by the hushed whispers of nature.

To him, however, that simple affirmation meant the world.

Diodie pressed on, "Such a question is born of folly," he began, his voice resonating with earnestness. "The moments we've shared, the connection we've forged—I hold them dear. I make no promises of eternal remembrance, for the frailty of memory is ever-present. But I shall endeavor to preserve your essence within me, even as the hands of time threaten to erode recollections." His gaze turned, fixing upon him, their eyes meeting in a powerful convergence.

In that gaze, there were no falsehoods, no hollow assurances. It was an affirmation of a different kind, a declaration that resonated with an exquisite beauty.

Diodir stood there, his presence as cold and unyielding as the winter air. Yet, in that frigid stillness, his attention was undivided, centered solely on him.

The sensation of being seen, truly seen, was a rarity he had come to cherish. To know that he held significance beyond the inconsequential, beyond the crawling of insects or the forgotten paths beneath blankets of snow...

There was a time when his father's attention was unwavering, when they would converse and bask in warm embraces that exuded love, accompanied by heartfelt declarations of "I love you."

In the idyllic confines of their cabin nestled in the rural expanse of the north...

His siblings had once mirrored that affection. They nurtured him, shared moments of camaraderie.

When their family consisted of five, not four...

In those moments, he believed that the truth behind those words would forever remain unaltered...

But he had since discovered that those declarations were built on lies.

No longer did anyone truly care for him; their interactions dripped with condescension. Their glances were cast only when they required something, devoid of greetings or expressions of gratitude. It was as if he were surplus, an unnecessary burden.

And so, weary of this charade, he had fled. Abandoning the family that had dwindled to three, perhaps now reveling in their newfound happiness without him. They likely gathered around their shared meals, untouched by his absence. The notion that they could be content, liberated from the obligation of providing for him, brought him a bittersweet solace.

Even in his desolate state, while scavenging for sustenance under moonlit canopies and surreptitiously pilfering from campfires, he clung to the notion that their happiness, even if it were at his expense, was somehow his own.

Yet, Diodir was different.

He did not engage in empty proclamations like "I will love you forever." Instead, he spoke of endeavors, of attempts not to forget. And within those words resided a sincerity that eclipsed any alternative.

Diodir harbored an aversion to physical contact, unwilling even to extend a comforting hand upon another's shoulder. Yet, standing there beside him, unmoving and unyielding, held a power that surpassed fleeting embraces, leaving an indelible impression long after they had parted.

His gaze was frigid and stern, bereft of paternal warmth. But within those eyes, he glimpsed undivided attention, a singular focus dedicated to him.

And that was what mattered.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice carrying the weight of unspoken gratitude.

"I didn't do anything worth thanking," Diodir responded, matter of factly. Yet, in that moment, the weight of his presence, the unwavering support he had offered, was immeasurable. He had done more for him than he could ever articulate.

His father wasn't here. Nor were his siblings. The nature of their connection with him remained uncertain, undefined. But in Diodir, he had found someone he could trust, someone who surpassed the hollow bonds of blood.

There was a lingering fear that he would fade into oblivion once he departed from this world. That his existence would be relegated to a mere whisper in the wind, forgotten and insignificant. In his own eyes, he saw a sad little boy, adrift and forgotten by the world.

But in the midst of this wintry landscape, as their footsteps echoed through the silence, he found solace in knowing that Diodir saw him. Truly saw him. And in that profound recognition, he discovered that his worth transcended the confines of his own self-doubt.

"It is you who have given me something invaluable," he murmured, the words imbued with a depth of emotion that belied their simplicity. "Thank you."

Diodir didn't answer, but his nod spoke volumes. It carried the weight of understanding, a silent command that they should continue their journey together. And so, they pressed on, their footsteps harmonizing in the crisp snow, bound by a connection that defied words.