Having cold thoughts of my past and how people still treated me, I shivered slightly. I had looked over to the thief and smiled slightly, seeing his face. I was oblivious to the reason of his reaction now but I had just thought it was from his outburst earlier. I settled in looking to my lap and listened to his words as he spoke. When he told me he cared, I looked to him, sadness in my eyes. Anyone who cared for me normally got hurt from those who kicked me down. I learned to try to avoid being cared for but I couldn't change people's minds. I wish I could so I could vanish and hide. To be able to go out and find somewhere new to go and live a normal life. It was nothing but a dream though. A dream I had crushed many a time in the past. When he said that he wasn't considered someone, just a nobody, I looked to him.<br/><br/>"You are somebody, though many do not see it as so. Everyone has a story and everyone has a past. You are someone, even if it may be only to one person, you still are." I smiled to him. It was true, my mother thought I was someone. She cared for me as both mother and a friend. I looked to him, "If you don't believe me, then understand that I use to feel the same until over time I realized, I am someone. Be it with a death or someone close to you says it over and over and means it."<br/><br/>I looked back to my lap, slightly unsure of what else to say. "If someone cares, then you are somebody. I cared enough to let you take the things you needed. You cared enough to check and make sure I was alright." I smiled to my lap. It was an odd feeling to be cared for again or was it because it was a man that cared? I didn't know, but either way, someone cared and that was what mattered.