This was the first time Isabel had ever seen Iver so obedient and quiet.
Of course, Iver was not usually a particularly lively or boisterous person. Besides, not long ago, he had still been spending every day in a wheelchair.
He always looked at others with a calm, indifferent gaze, wearing a faint smile while everyone else chatted and quietly listening from the side. On the rare occasions when he did add a few words, he almost always followed along with whatever topic the others were discussing. That only made people feel comfortable and relaxed. Anyone would want to spend time with him.
...But Isabel always felt that Iver, who constantly gave others a sense of ease, did not live so easily himself.
She always felt that there were many things Iver could not let go of.
When Iver wore a smile, Isabel felt as if he were quietly frowning inside. When everyone else laughed and played around, Iver would sit quietly to the side, gazing in their direction yet seeming to look far away.
--It was as though he were about to move somewhere very distant and therefore had no intention of leaving any traces behind; or as though he had returned from the future, already knowing that the friends before him were merely passing travelers, and therefore had no intention of investing any genuine feelings.
Isabel did not know what Iver was worried about. He was clearly already so outstanding that she even admired him... Yet in another sense, she felt that Iver seemed more childish than she was.
He liked showing off his courage by doing dangerous things, and he also liked being recognized and praised by impressive people. Yet at the same time, he was somewhat awkward about it--a strange sort of pride, whose origin Isabel