Amelia’s eyes sharpen at Bastien’s words, but importantly his demeanor. He’s not the only one who doesn’t trust her return, but she blames this little bout of irritation on grizzly display witnessed.
“Bastien,” she says and that characteristic icy chill creeps over her voice, making it reprimanding. “I know you’re pissed, but you gain nothing from using such a tone.”
She can only assume what this must be like for him. Bastien’s own personal vendetta against the O'Haras is no secret to her (or the rest of the Delucas for that matter) but Amelia is one of the few that knows it’s misplaced. The corpse that sits upstairs will most likely drive her cousin further towards the lie and it says something that Amelia stays quiet and complacent about it. After all, it’s the lie keeps Bastien on their side, keeps the family together. Amelia feels it’s justified.
(She’s also still grappling with her new life and her old, her own inherent prejudice against the O’Hara’s and her newfound love for them, but that’s her own burden to carry. Amelia’s insistent to the point of self-destruction that no one else sees her struggle.)
He doesn’t take the snack so she stands up to dispose of it. Her offers are never unconditional, and most come with a time limit. Like this one. Times up on the Fruit By The Foot. Amelia tosses it into the garbage can at the corner of the chambers. Clean shot.
“Anything gone from your room?”
Her mind is already moving on from his snippy tone and working on charting the damage. They’ll do a whole sweep of the house of course, check for bugs. Then they’ll draft a plan. This is how Amelia’s anger manifests. Through calculation.
He hates how suddenly she believes she’s in charge of him again. Just a week ago, she had no control over him, and Nick didn’t come close to believing that, either. The family dynamics were known; Bastien obeyed Anthony and Anthony alone. He never asked for Amelia to come back - not even for Anthony’s sake - and did not want to listen to a thing she told him.
“No - you know what? I do gain something - I get to let some of my fucking anger out, because, last I checked, you’re the only O’Hara in this house, and I’m allowed to talk however the fuck I want.” His own voice had an icy tone to it, as well, despite how quietly he spoke. If Anthony were in the room, he might’ve bit his tongue. But he didn’t appreciate being reprimanded by her. He wasn’t even sure if Amelia heard him, but he wasn’t willing to let himself be treated like a child.
Bastien is a little upset that the Fruit By The Foot is taken away from him, but he won’t react like a child throwing a tantrum. If he really decided he wanted one by the morning, he’d go to the store and buy himself his own pack.
“I don’t keep personal items. My room looks cleaner than before, but that’s not because I’m missing anything.” That’s not true, completely. He has a shirt of his father’s and a ring of his mother’s. Both are still where they were when he left the house. He reminds himself to buy a chain for the ring - or to go and get it resized to fit his finger - so he isn’t put in this situation again. It’s not like he can wear the shirt 24/7, but the ring can be kept closer at all times.
He just doesn’t want to be in his room because it’s uncomfortable. He doesn’t like knowing that there was some O’Hara son of a bitch in there, doesn’t like the way it feels like they’ve touched everything. His vendetta was strong, and he was going to find some way to take care of it, even if he had to do it himself.
