at the beginning of the convoluted, tumultuous tale that is quin and siaās relationship, andromeda admits to not thinking much of sia. she was always that way, though. andy had always been trapped in her own world, because, frankly, it was hard to get past her own issues. she always had things going on. she remembers, though, admiring sia. sia, the beautiful head cheerleader. she was everything andromeda wasnāt and she loved her for it. the coolest older sister she could ever have. ( sorry, ophelia. ) they had one of those make-or-break relationships andy could only play-act at. they were romeo & juliet, the love story, not the tragedy, and andy hoped they would never part. not because she was particularly invested ( though, in a way, she was ), but because then her and sia would offer part, cursed to stilted waves whenever they were forced to acknowledge each other in public. and as she grew, she became even more attached. sheād make up excuses to spend more time by sia. never directly, because andy knew then it would be too embarrassing to admit ā how much she adored and looked up to sia. she had this awful habit of wearing her heart on her sleeve. her emotions were always clear on her face. it was similar, in a way, to how attached she felt to tova, though in this situation, it was reciprocated ( not to mention entirely platonic ). andromeda yipped at the other girlās heels for the attention that sia would give her. sia was unbidden in it. she had plenty of time for andromeda, and that wasnāt something most people could say. for once, she felt like she wasnāt going to get a door slammed on her. she had been walked out on before plenty ( her mother, her grandparents, tova ), but she wasnāt worried about sia. she knew, she just did, not because of anything that needed to be said, for their relationship wasnāt one that included much talking about the deep things, that sia would be there for as long as she had her, and it was just how she liked it. ā iād have loved to have meet him, you know. i think we would have gotten along. ā she doesnāt say: we both love you very muchĀ because there are question marks lining it. she doesnāt say: iām sorry because andromeda knows her condolences mean nothing. and, besides, she doesnāt want to pry. they live in careful phrases. sheās not bursting the bubble their relationship lives in. ā i canāt imagine what itās like being a mother. it seems awfully hard. ā probably rewarding, but andy didnāt actually have plans to have children any day. she didnāt want to pass on her genes to some undeserving soul. ā that sounds like just what i need, honestly. some girl time in the middle of nowhere. i can find some cool landscapes to paint. we can go shopping. itāll be fun. ā
she spent more time than she had any right to, these days, dwelling upon her past. if she had voiced such a thing to her mother, lee thompkins would have called her a rose colored fool - remembering what had never existed, thinking better upon the things that hadĀ than they deserved. when the twins laughed, she thought about their sister. when she peeked in on them, sleeping, she thought about their brother. when she heard rock music playing too loudly from a car being driven aĀ littleĀ too fast down the street, she thought of dante. and when she saw two people holding hands, when she saw a quick peck to the cheek or a stolen glance across a crowded room, she thought about QUIN - everything they'd lost, past and future, combined. what she had with andromeda was a rare gift that sia considered incomparable, because when considered against all else, there was NO tinge of sadness attached to all theĀ good. there was just... aching love and unwavering support. two girlhoods marred by tragedy, come together to form something beautiful. when she thought of andy - and she did, so often, when the skies opened on an otherwise sunny day to let loose a hail of light drizzle, when flowers began to bloom in the early morning light, when she turned the radio over and came across a haunting, orchestra tune - it was not WHIMSICALLY sad. she found it in her to smile, always, because somewhere out there, her little sisterĀ carried on. sometime, soon, they would meet for another coffee date, or cross paths in a less DELIBERATE way. she was alive, she EXISTED, she brought a joy to sia's life that so few, nowadays, could match - and that was worth grasping onto. "he would have loved you as much as i do," he would have eaten you alive, is the thought she doesn't share, the one that isn't FAIR - not to his memory. whatever truth there was to it ( and she knew that there was an abundance ; that dante as he'd BEEN had been a far cry from the dante that she had watched over when they were young ) be damned. "i wish...- he could have been friends with you. i think you'd have done him good." better. she swallows, hard, because it pains her to think about - but there IS a part of her that wonders, if dante had met andyĀ instead of WINONA FALCONE, would he have still been around? she wasn't usually the sort to deal in maybes, but it's certainly something that will haunt her, in it's own way. "it is. i can't LIE, there, but...- i think, sometimes, it's all i was meant for. i didn't feel whole until i had them both." she doesn't dare imply that such a feeling is universal. it ISN'T, and she knows it. some women were able to go their whole lives without the desire that had overrun sia's life - the needĀ to NURTURE. she was one of the few who had spent a lifetime in preparation ( chasing after all her friends, kissing childhood injuries betterĀ ). "i canāt think of anything i would love to do more. i know youāre probably busy, for the next little while - but iāll have it all pulled together in no time! iāve always wantedĀ to watch an artist at work, in real time.ā
