[The practical part of Will's brain is probably relieved that Eddie isn't a tiny serial killer. Just a quiet, smiling kid with very bright eyes and very warm hands. Will can't honestly remember the last time he held someone's hand -- at least, not out of fear or anxiety or loneliness. Just to hold it.
He obligingly sits, scrunching his nose at the scent of the flowers, then reaching with his free hand to touch one. He's sort of surprised that something so nice and pretty exists here. He'll carefully pluck one of the petals and almost absently set it onto Eddie's head. There we go, new friend, you get a petal.]
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He obligingly sits, scrunching his nose at the scent of the flowers, then reaching with his free hand to touch one. He's sort of surprised that something so nice and pretty exists here. He'll carefully pluck one of the petals and almost absently set it onto Eddie's head. There we go, new friend, you get a petal.]