When he lifted his eyes to mine, the yearning in them threw me off guard, even though I knew it wasn’t yearning for me as such. It was for acceptance. Being able to be intimate with someone for the first time in his life. Being touched. I wondered how often anyone touched Moth. Even pats on the shoulder or a slap on the back. Before we’d left the camp, I remembered thinking that he seemed lonely even when standing surrounded by others.
