Ever since he had been told that he constantly looked like he was moping, Djakovo had made every attempt to try to seem less like it was the end of the world. Or at least giving off the impression that that was how he felt. But to no avail. Try as he might, he couldn't break through all the barriers he had erected around himself after years of silent suffering of the trauma that had struck him years before at his parents' deaths.
It was hardly surprising, and he hadn't expected so much as the occasional smile to show through, but at least he was trying. That had to be a good thing in and of itself. If his sister were here, she would be proud of what he was doing, and she would understand fully how much he was struggling to achieve his goal.
And she would forgive him if he were to give up, because she knew what he was like better than the dark lion did himself. But he didn't quite want to give up, and he was determined to try until at least he was able to flash someone a real, genuine smile. After that, who cared if he stopped trying, at least he had managed to show some kind of positive emotion. So that was what he would do, someday. And until then he would just keep on trying.
