Page 18 of A Winter Crush

“Were you born in Ores?” Ori asked, breaking the quiet. Ori set the cleaned tool in the container and picked up the next one.

Wareth frowned as he crumbled the dry clay in the bucket, preparing it for recycling.

In recent days, Wareth had explained more of the pottery process to Ori. It had surprised him how interested Ori was. Sariah didn’t care at all. At first, he thought Ori was mocking him, teasing him because he cared so much about his pottery and studio. But Ori was serious and would happily sit, sometimes for over an hour, just watching him work. Sometimes he asked questions, but most of the time, he just sat there watching.

It unnerved Wareth. It felt like he was sharing something personal, something sacred. He’d never had someone watch him work. Not since Rin’s grandfather had passed away. And that was always to tell him how to improve. Ori’s interest made Wareth uneasy. All this made Wareth uneasy.

But, if Wareth was being truly honest with himself, it was nice having someone to share this with. But they had never talked about their personal lives. All Ori’s questions had been about pottery and the studio. They had been safe questions. Until now, it seemed.

“I was born in Ores,” he said finally.

“Sariah too?”

He nodded.

“Do you have any family here?”

“My parents.”

“Do you get along with your parents?”

“Well enough.”

“Siblings?”

“No siblings.” Wareth should probably ask a question in return. If he didn’t, no doubt Ori would keep asking him probing, personal questions. “What about you? Siblings?”

“I have a younger brother.”

Wareth nodded, scrambling to think of another question. It shouldn’t be this hard, but he was out of practice, and usually, he had Sariah to hide behind. “Do you live with your parents?”

“We live with our aunties. Although, they aren’t really our aunties. They took us in and raised us after our parents died.”

“Your parents died?” Wareth almost dropped the clay. It was hard to imagine something like that happening to Ori. He always seemed so positive. And Ori was far too young to have lost both his parents. “How?”

“They got sick,” he said. “Blackspot.”

Wareth waited for him to elaborate. Wareth was normally the one who kept his sentences short. But Ori didn’t continue.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Ori smiled, but his lips were tight, and his smile lacked its usual vibrancy. “It happened a long time ago, and like I said, we weren’t on our own. Our aunties took us in, and they took good care of us. My brother got sick at the same time as our parents, but he’s better now. He’s ten years younger than me, but we’re close. Although, now he’s always running off with his friends.” He gave a weak laugh. “He doesn’t have so much time for his older brother anymore.”

Wareth couldn’t ignore the slump in Ori’s shoulders, and the way the light that always flowed from him had dimmed as he talked. Wareth wished Sariah were here. She was better at these sorts of things. She’d know exactly what to say and how to handle this situation to cheer up Ori.

Instead, Wareth just watched Ori cleaning, feeling completely inadequate as he couldn’t think of a single word to make Ori feel better.

“I should start mopping,” Ori said, collecting up the now-clean tools and placing them into the box on the shelf.

“Do you want to go on the pottery wheel?” Wareth blurted.

Ori froze. “Really?”

Wareth nodded.

“I didn’t think you’d ever let me have a try. Sariah said you’ve never let her.”

Wareth shrugged as the butterflies took flight inside his chest. No one, other than himself, touched his pottery wheel. At least, not since Rin’s grandfather had passed.