Anthony looked away, afraid of being confronted by this child. ".....That's fair," he nodded. "to be fair, I haven't really. Told stories before."

"It's easy!" said James. "I'll show you." He shifted his position and pulled a serious face. "My parents were pirates. One day, they entered a ship that carried the queen of Spain! They defeated all her guards and made them walk the plank, and they held the queen captive for ransom. But the Spanish were not happy and they sent a whole fleet and my parents had to run. Well... sail. And when they realized they could not escape, they hid me in a barrel and tossed me into the sea, and I floated all the way to Whitby, and that's how I ended up here!" James cheek's were red from excitement over his own made up adventure.

Anthony raised his gaze from the ground, a small smile on his face as James told his story, listening closely to it. "Really?" he raised an eyebrow. "Well, wasn't that an interesting story." It was bullshit, obviously, but James seemed to be very excited about this and he wanted to be a good father so he just went along with it.

James nodded, now feeling not only excited, but also proud. "Now tell me your story!" he insisted.

For some reason Anthony didn't expect to have to tell his story again, but alright. He'll try, at the very least. "Well, if you insist," he said, clicking his tongue as he thought for a bit.

"Well, uh, one time I was....walking late at night and then I saw this guy also walking and then I decided that I'm going to steal from him because he had money. And then I went up to him and pretended to be all nice and all and and I was just 'okay' and then we talked about poor people and that being poor must suck and I was 'okay?' and then he gave me a bit of money but not much at all and I was just 'no. Way.' and then I got angry and threatened him with a knife and stole all his money and he ran away crying." fucking awesome.

"He cried?" James said with a smirk. "Ha! What a girl!" James had conveniently forgotten that he had cried last night. "That was a good story!"

Though Anthony enjoyed the praise, what he didn't really enjoy as much was his new son's misogyny. "Didn't you cry just yesterday as well, James?" He raised an eyebrow, looking at the kid.

James turned red. If any of the boys on the street ever heard he had cried, he would hear about it for years. "I didn't!" he denied. "I had som't in my eye!"

Anthony closed his eyes for a brief moment and inhaled. "Really?" he asked, but wasn't really expecting nor wanting an answer. "It's not bad to cry, you know." What is it with young boys and their absolute inability to ever admit that they feel emotions sometimes. Was Anthony like that too? God forbid.

"I don't cry though," James bragged. "I'm a tough guy. But I think.... sometimes other boys cry. But not me."