02-11-2019, 10:59 PM
“He’s not--” But the defense died on her tongue. A monster, she’d been going to say, tripping over the frayed ties of a loyalty that even five years silence didn't cut completely. But she didn't want to open the dialogue. Her gaze skated away, the shutter of her expression flat.
She had loved him the fiercest out of her siblings. Forgiveness found no fertile soil in the debris of past mistakes, but that still hadn't changed. It would have been easier to simply hate.
She wagered any retaliation was unlikely to take the form of Amengual’s open brutality. Alistair set people up like dominoes, then sat back to watch the elaborate downfall. Intricate schemes to prove a point or further a cause. Nudges and pushes to see how far a person would go, sometimes just for the thrill of manipulation. To break human nature into its component parts.
“I don’t know what he’ll do,” she admitted.
But she thought she knew what he wanted, now.
Her arms folded a barrier. Jay never once asked her to cross burned bridges, even if it was the surest path to resolution for this one problem. He could have asked for that sacrifice of pride, and she wouldn't have blamed him. But he never did. She thought about asking why, but knew she wouldn’t tread down that path willingly. Instead the circle of betrayal lay abandoned. One sharp cut, and he would have had his answers. The simplest equation her father could have offered; a sacrifice of want for a gain of need. He should have done it. She saw that.
The burden passed. Her nails dug against her palms, and conviction settled on a new mark. One she hoped she didn’t regret.
Trust was in short supply, and the revelation that the contact was intimately tied to the night of catalyst didn’t soothe her the way intended. Doubt flickered her expression unspoken, despite Jay’s certainty in an old friendship. But it was nothing tangible, maybe even ignited by the cynicism in his own words, and when gratitude slumped his shoulders any protest was silenced. She had been serious about the respite, but surprised to meet no resistance; like banging on a locked door only for it to suddenly open from the inside.
The weariness caught like kindling, sweeping in like an unwelcome guest. A hot shower eased the knots of long travel, but the fleeting snatches of sleep over the last few days flared like a fresh pressed bruise -- a restless reminder she didn’t much care for. She wasn’t seeking solitude; it was part of the reason she had welcomed Cayli's company. But her lips flickered a smirk anyway, stance unravelling. She moved to smooth the frustrated tufts of his hair. Stupid, mindless affection.
“Only two?” She laughed, teasing. “Do I really have to tackle you up those stairs, Jay? I swear the sky won’t fall.”
She had loved him the fiercest out of her siblings. Forgiveness found no fertile soil in the debris of past mistakes, but that still hadn't changed. It would have been easier to simply hate.
She wagered any retaliation was unlikely to take the form of Amengual’s open brutality. Alistair set people up like dominoes, then sat back to watch the elaborate downfall. Intricate schemes to prove a point or further a cause. Nudges and pushes to see how far a person would go, sometimes just for the thrill of manipulation. To break human nature into its component parts.
“I don’t know what he’ll do,” she admitted.
But she thought she knew what he wanted, now.
Her arms folded a barrier. Jay never once asked her to cross burned bridges, even if it was the surest path to resolution for this one problem. He could have asked for that sacrifice of pride, and she wouldn't have blamed him. But he never did. She thought about asking why, but knew she wouldn’t tread down that path willingly. Instead the circle of betrayal lay abandoned. One sharp cut, and he would have had his answers. The simplest equation her father could have offered; a sacrifice of want for a gain of need. He should have done it. She saw that.
The burden passed. Her nails dug against her palms, and conviction settled on a new mark. One she hoped she didn’t regret.
Trust was in short supply, and the revelation that the contact was intimately tied to the night of catalyst didn’t soothe her the way intended. Doubt flickered her expression unspoken, despite Jay’s certainty in an old friendship. But it was nothing tangible, maybe even ignited by the cynicism in his own words, and when gratitude slumped his shoulders any protest was silenced. She had been serious about the respite, but surprised to meet no resistance; like banging on a locked door only for it to suddenly open from the inside.
The weariness caught like kindling, sweeping in like an unwelcome guest. A hot shower eased the knots of long travel, but the fleeting snatches of sleep over the last few days flared like a fresh pressed bruise -- a restless reminder she didn’t much care for. She wasn’t seeking solitude; it was part of the reason she had welcomed Cayli's company. But her lips flickered a smirk anyway, stance unravelling. She moved to smooth the frustrated tufts of his hair. Stupid, mindless affection.
“Only two?” She laughed, teasing. “Do I really have to tackle you up those stairs, Jay? I swear the sky won’t fall.”