The concept of being alone held a myriad of meanings for Alexander, each deeply personal. It could manifest as complete physical isolation or feeling invisible amidst a crowd of people. In his short fifteen years, he had experienced various shades of loneliness, leaving an indelible mark on his soul.
"But even if I'm not alone," he continued, his voice tinged with vulnerability, "I wouldn't know them." The only respite from his solitude had been in the confines of the dungeon with Lily, where a unique bond had formed. Even in their quiet coexistence, there was an unspoken understanding, a shared purpose in their work. Alexander had come to appreciate those moments spent together, and it was the fear of losing that connection, that undefined but precious bond, which prompted his introspection. It was the catalyst that set off a chain reaction, propelling him toward change.
He paused for a moment, searching for the right words to convey his feelings. "She's the closest thing I've ever had to a friend," he murmured softly, the weight of his emotions evident. "Lily... she's genuinely good, in a way that I can't quite explain." The depth of his admiration for her shone through, as he whispered the sentiment with both reverence and apprehension, aware of the significance it held in his evolving journey.