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“Should you not be at your lesson?”
Filureum’s voice is leaning more towards his authoritatively curious tone, but there’s still that genuinely curious tone in there, so he has some leeway.
“It is simply rehashing the previous lesson’s contents. Even then, that lesson rehashed previous material.” Ollin explained matter of factly, hands never wavering in their perfect twisting pattern.
“Therefore, I see no reason to attend.” He receives a disapproving hum. Not yet disappointed, but he can hear that it’s leaning towards it.
“Are these lessons not important for children your age, Olly?” His nickname. He’s taking the understanding yet gently chiding approach. A common one for him.
“Yes, but I already memorized the information from the first lesson. Hearing it two more times simply wastes time you could spend learning something new.” He stops when his fingers run over a knot. Not too thick, but it has clearly been there a while. He must have missed it when washing it.
“You need to avoid wasting time, you know.” He reaches for his satchel. It’s small, smaller than he normally would prefer. But anything bigger would draw suspicion from his father. And drawing suspicion from him would lead to a questions, which would lead to the truth coming out, then lead to a lecture, which would use up any time he’d allocated to spending with-
“Yes, I am aware.” Filureum’s voice breaks his thoughts, and restores motion to his hand that had unconsciously stopped. “But reviews are highly beneficial, from what I have learned.”
“They allow for assurance that information is taken in, and can clear up any misunderstandings.” He paused for a moment, clearly thinking. As he does, Ollin grabs a fine violet wood brush.
He takes the lock of hair housing the knot, and starts from the underside, where it’s a little looser. While he knows he can’t feel pain, it makes Ollin feel better starting from a place where he’d be less likely to tug at the skull
“You can also come up with new things to discuss or debate.” Filureum finally continued, voicing taking on an encouraging tone. “You enjoy those activities, correct?”
Ollin was silent, carefully brushing out the knot. He had a great memory. No where near Ollin’s, but very good. He’s remembered everything he’s told him about the outside world that he’s never seen for millions of years.
And actually, even while he clearly doesn’t understand some of it, he tries to utilize it to have productive conversations with Ollin. Or give him advice. Actually helpful advice, now that he thinks about it.
“I do not like having debates or discussions with my classmates.” Ollin admitted, noticing his voice came out sounding shameful. He doesn’t know why, to an extent.
“Why is that, little one?” His heart is immediately struck by the tenderness in his voice. And he’s used the endearing title he’s given Ollin. He’s fully entered that demeanor he’s seen in his classmate’s parents, mainly their mothers. He just can’t put a name to it.
Ollin doesn’t answer right away, setting the brush down and returning to his previous twisting motions. He doesn’t want to tell him. It was ridiculous and childish, which would be immature of him. But the way his voice is gentle, and how he can just feel that he wouldn’t judge him, makes Ollin want to be immature just a little bit.
“I feel embarrassed.” He tries hard not to mumble his answer, but it’s so stupid. “They always simply stare at me with confusion whenever it is my turn. And the teacher always has to tell me to stop.”
He gets another hum, but it’s a contemplative one this time. Ollin holds the hair with one hand, reaching back into the satchel with his other. He pulls out one of his aunt’s hair ties that he knows she won’t notice is gone, and copies her movements with it to hold the hair in place.
“Do you tend to talk too long like you do with me?” He came off a little teasing, but it was swallowed by the gentle curiosity he always spoke with.
Ollin hung his head. “Yes.” Filureum remained quiet, expecting more. He knew him too well. “I talk over the teacher sometimes as well.”
“A rather bad habit, little one.” He gently scolded. One hand reached behind him to rest on Ollin’s shoulder. Even in his human form, Filureum was still larger than him.
“Do you believe your classmates hate when you do this?” He inquired, seeming to be heading somewhere with the question.
Ollin had to think about that. He received piercing states, yes, but they never felt hostile. Only ever the teacher’s, definitely from being interrupted constantly. But his classmates only ever looked at him with confusion, maybe incredulity, or even intrigue. Never annoyed, or angry.
“If I am to weigh my opinion,” Filureum stood, slow enough so Ollin had time to let his hair go. He only stood at full height briefly, as he turned to face the boy, keeping his hand on his shoulder.
“From what I have been told, and observed on rare occasions, children your age rarely despise hearing things they have never heard of or known before.” Ollin knew who he was talking about. Only one other Angel interacted with humans aside from him. And he could hear the nostalgia in Filureum’s voice, with a hint of sadness.
“They do not hate what they hear, they simply cannot understand it.” The hand on Ollin’s shoulder slides down to carefully hold his hand. He melted almost immediately, actually feeling his age at that moment.
“Perhaps, if you participate in all your lessons, whether they repeat information or not, they will slowly understand what you talk about, and you all can have productive discussions and debates.” His other hand cupped the cheek covered by his braid, slipping underneath it. “You should not deprive yourself of something you enjoy, after all.”
Ollin looked up at him, nodding. Discussions and debates with his father and aunt were never truly productive. They always ended the same, with them all on the same page, or one of them coming out on top.
“Will you try this at your next lesson, little one?” Filureum proposed, tilting his head. Ollin did the same.
Ollin nodded immediately, earning a squish of his cheek. Filureum then let him go and turned back around. He still had a lot of hair to braid.