Marin didn’t like people.
Today’s activities hadn’t come as a surprise to the thirteen year old. His mother had been talking for quite some time about visiting an old friend. She had a daughter, she’d said. Maybe they could be friends, she said. Marin knew that his mother wanted him to make more friends at school and he’d been trying. He really had. The problem with friendship was that it didn’t come in quantifiable amounts. How did you know if you were friends with someone and not just acquaintances? There was no point system or friendship rungs or levels that the Hufflepuff boy was aware of. Without an organised and easily understandable structure, people were forced to rely on intuition… What a terrible system.
On top of that, apparently asking questions about friendship was socially unacceptable, or awkward at least. Marin didn’t see the problem with asking for clarification, but the idea of behaving in a way that would draw negative attention terrified the boy. With this in mind, Marin stepped into his fireplace after his redheaded mother apprehensively. He had no problems with travelling by floo usually, but he would have much rather stayed at home drawing than come out today. He was in the middle of sketching some ideas for his room. The boy’s mother was going to paint it again sometime soon. They’d probably do it together. It was a bonding thing. As the tall boy stepped out of the fireplace at the other end, he got a good look at the room around him.
It was true that he was particularly observant, and in moments, he’d already memorised the layout of the room. Sometimes focussing on little details and committing them to memory calmed him down. He supposed that it was a focus thing. Maybe it stopped him from over analysing everything else and being overwhelmed by the chaos that was social interaction. Really, Marin was a sweet boy. He just wasn’t good with people. Maybe it was a little wrong to say that he didn’t like them. He certainly didn’t understand them, and sometimes interaction was too much.
Speaking of people… there they were. Introductions were made and Marin’s facial expression was blank in the politest way that he could manage. Self consciously, Marin wiped his hands against the rough material of his pants. He greeted his mother’s friend and her daughter with an awkward kind of nod. His treacherous cheeks were heating up a little at this basic introduction. He didn’t understand why his body reacted like this, but it was irritating. The boy stuck out his now dry hand for the girl and her mother to shake in turn. “It’s nice to meet you too,” he told her politely. The boy panicked a bit as his mother made some comment about letting the children meet each other and disappeared off with her friend, but he reminded himself that he would be fine. People his own age were hard to interact with, but he would try, if just for his mum.
