You couldn’t see it when he scowled at you, raising his eyebrow in that way that let you know just how little he thought of you. You couldn’t see it when he frowned and turned away, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his words to himself. You couldn’t even see it when he stared blankly at the floor, cracking his knuckles and fiddling with his knives to pass the weary hours.
No, it was that short second that came every once in a long, long while, when he genuinely smiled without mocking, without cruelty, without disdain, only with real happiness… that was when the dying lights of the evening started to betray his age.
