❥ big brother!
FEATURES SETTLE INTO a quiet expression of pity. Woe, poor girl. She draws upon the proclivities of a child clinging, just summers old. Too raw, too delicate — he wonders what age she borders on, surely she just taunts the cusp of adulthood. Yet, her features betray that ; wrought by innocence gentle and sweet, broken by the wrath of a past life and born anew, bruised and unable to wade through reality like a lamb tender. Matteo belies her ignorance — to others he’d been the viper. Lone and vicious with fangs bloodied and bared, ever the coldest of souls by consequence of his occupation. She’d caused him to unwind from that aloofness and silver tongue to a more docile façade ( dare he deem it acceptable ).
❛ Of course. ❜
Compassion reins the need to downplay the significance of his generosity. He’d claim it was a small gesture, something lacking much effort. But in the eyes of another, rescued, torn from the embrace of death, such kindness satiates the soul far more than any amount of Gil could grant. What he considers minute had been the seed of bountiful gratitude, nestled within her heart to flourish and mould to the route she’d opted to pursue. That was no small gift.
Now he’d retreated, pulling his hand back to retrieve paper and a quill.
❛ Until you’re able to speak again, you can write. I’m sure that’s a lot easier than searching through a book and pointing, don’t y’think ? ❜ They’re offered to her, slid atop the table, ❛ You can write your thoughts out, too. If you find it therapeutic. Whatever you need for now I can get, assuming Anjou doesn’t do so first. ❜
fingers hold the quill to the paper. but nothing appears other than black ink dots from keeping the quill lingering on the paper too long. her thoughts were far too messy to express. but at the same time, it was far too empty. overwhelmed, she’s very overwhelmed. his kindness was a lot to process. while he said it, that Anjou was his sister, she wonders just who she is. she didn’t seem scary, but there was this lingering feeling of anxiety over meeting another stranger. had she not remembered him from the night before, she’d assume he was one of them.
for now, the quill is let go, and the paper left blank. now more awake, she examines herself some more. noting her fatigue, her bruises, and the bandage on her leg. brows furrow, she reaches to touch it. attempting to remember what happened, she can see the blood stain, it shaped almost like a slit. fingers trace over it, and it triggers something. suddenly in a flash she remembered. the arrow piercing into he leg, knocking her over as she cried out. a hand comes up to her chest, she flinches backwards. an distressed gasp leaves her lips. that pain shot itself through her leg once more as a reminder. one hand clung to that wound, and her eyes close.
her body was shaking, and her eyes open with tears now within them. he would likely think it was the pain, but it was just the memory. it was a curse to only remember the trauma, and to continue only remembering that trauma was hard. but luckily a distraction finds it’s way into her mind. when her hand had made its way to her chest, it clung to something - a chain. it was broken and stained. what was once a silver metal, was now accented with red. and the charm was split in half. it looked to be if someone were to push the two pieces together.. it’d spell something.
so, she pushes them together slowly. almost afraid she’d break it. she looks to him, confused once she reads what it says. tugging at it, as if to show him. it had said:
❛ to Nimue, my dear sister. I love you. ❜
