Fraternal Familiarity || Belle + Dru
In the days following her forced separation from Shiloh Belle found herself cast adrift in a hitherto unknown emotional malaise. Tears flowed freely til she thought, surely, there were no more to shed and yet there they would be anew. She could scarce muster the energy to rise from her bed to eat or dress. Her heart hurt, physically, her ribs feeling too tight in their protective embrace.
She knew the choice she had made had been the right one. Shiloh could shout from the rooftops that he loved her and wished to wed her, but his actions spoke so much louder than that and so long as he continued to be untrue she could not stay with him. This truth, simple and stark as it was, did not make the living with it any easier.
Truth told, she still desperately loved him and wanted him near her. She remembered, vividly, all the things that made her love him; his good qualities, the sound of his laugh, his kiss, his touch.
It had not been so when she had lost Abaddon and Julian. Still one of heaven's own when Abaddon had been lost, she had been able to busy herself with her divinely appointed tasks and, too, share her grief with Azrael who felt their brother's absence just as keenly as she had. Julian's loss had been superseceded by her fall and initial floundering in a newly mortal life. It was so much later she was able to properly mourn his loss that the raw edge of hurt had dulled ... And, of course, she had gravitated to Shiloh near immediately after.
All of this, factual as it was, did little to relieve her hurt.
In the midst of it all, she longed for a familiar face and comforting presence. Those who could provide just that proved a small group indeed, yet there was one who came forefront to her mind.
Rousing herself with harsh admonishments, Belle washed and dressed and finally left the cloying claustrophia of her room. The frantic scene of the Slums' streets did little to improve her mood and she found herself more impatient than was usual with the crowd and its insufferable slowness. Forcing her way through with a touch more force than was neccessary, she broke free and set down the path that would lead her to her destination. She stopped only long enough to purchase a sampling of fruit; a gift of sorts, though she knew its recepient would likely not appreciate it as such straighaway. Still, she could not bring herself to arrive unannounced and empty-handed.
She knew she had little to no right to call here, considering the damage she herself had caused, but she could think of no other she would rather see or sit with. The tent having no door, she lingered for a moment outside the closed front flap before daring to slowly push it to one side.
Poking her head in first, then entering fully, she said, "Azrael? I do not mean to intrude, but I wished to see you, brother." She appeared as she ever had, as of late, clad in her huntress' garb though today she seemed armed only with a smallish basket in one hand. Her face, however, looked careworn, tired, and still carried in its countenance signs of all the tears she had so recently shed.