Page 60 of Beau and the Beast

Beau puffed a laugh through his nose and shook his head. "Youarea man, Wolfram."

"I haven't felt like a man in many years. But tonight... I could almost lose myself in it. I could almost forget what I am—the same way I do sometimes when I talk to you."

"That's good," Beau said. "That's how you deserve to feel. That's how Iwantedyou to feel—why I wanted you to come to dinner."

"None of it would've been possible if you hadn't been so thoughtful, Beau," Wolfram pointed out. "I'd have been sitting there eating raw steaks with my hands and teeth if you hadn't thought through it all."

Beau shrugged as if what he had just done wasn't truly magical for Wolfram.

"I'm glad it made you feel more comfortable."

"Where did you learn to do that? To anticipate someone's needs—someone as different as I am?"

Beau considered that for a moment.

"I have a brother, Noah," he said with a sad smile. "He's different, too. I guess I hadn't thought about it, but in some ways the two of you aren't physically that different."

Wolfram snorted. "I have a hard time believing that."

"Granted, he doesn't have horns or claws," Beau said quickly with a smile.

"Tell me about him," Wolfram said.

"He's two years younger than me. There was an accident when he was seven and he got burned pretty bad. He's fine now but it made him different from most people."

Beau dragged a hand idly across his torso, tracing the shape of something unseen as he thought about what he should say next.

"He walks with a cane and has trouble getting around sometimes. That's why he ended up being so good with computers. He's not great with his hands, but he can type with a modified keyboard. He always says when you're online, there's nobody who can stare at you."

"People stare at him?"

"They don't mean to. But like I said, he was burned. His face is really different from most faces people see, and so they stare. And things that are easy for me like eating dinner are hard for him. It can be messy and loud and it's just—well, it's different. Not bad. Just not the same."

It made sense, then, how Beau hadn't been surprised by the way that Wolfram was, how he ate and what accommodations he needed. It also made sense, too, that he'd be quick to empathize and predict what help someone might need who had different abilities.

"I'm sorry I never asked about your family," Wolfram said.

"That's ok. I'm not here to talk about myself."

"I was happy to get to know you a little better tonight," Wolfram admitted.

"I was happy that you came to dinner, even if I had to bully you."

Wolfram allowed himself to smile. "I've been lacking someone willing to stand up to me for a long time."

"Uh, yeah, y'know somehow I sensed that," Beau teased.

"It's been very... unpleasant with them. It's been years since I tried to dine with them, and I don't blame them at all for not wanting me there."

Beau nodded.

"Don't hate them for it," Wolfram said.

"Of course not. Not everyone thinks things through. But it wasn't right for them to make you feel uncomfortable when there were easy things they could've done to help. And if we don't sit with people who are different from us and try to understand them, nothing will ever change."

"That's progressive of you," Wolfram said. It came out sounding more sarcastic than he meant it to.

"It's not progressive. It's just being a decent human being. My brother deserves compassion and a normal life—he deserves to be loved and cared for. Why wouldn't you deserve the same?"

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