⟲ (alarick)
“This may or may not surprise you, but I was pretty needy as a child. I think I annoyed everyone with it, to be honest. Except for my dad. He always had time for me whenever I wanted,” a small smile, reminiscent of a better time. Little fingers clutched in a big hand, a feeling of safety Demet’s never really had again. “I remember when I was little, and I didn’t want to sleep, I would get out of bed and go get him to read me a story. Almost every night. And he never complained once. He’d pick me up, grab a book off the shelf and carry me back to bed, then sit there and read with me.” One of her most precious memories, something she holds onto dearly. A lot of her early memories have faded, but this one holds strong, perhaps out of sheer stubbornness.
“My siblings, they would all complain. We had to share a room, so they were always a captive audience too. Rafael was the loudest,” she chuckles softly. “But I think they secretly liked it too. And he never stopped coming, not until... well, I’m sure you know the rest.” And that’s what makes it bittersweet, the inevitable end, when the floor fell out beneath the Yilmaz family. “But even over a hundred years later it’s stayed with me, and I always thought... well, I thought I’d want to do the same with my own kids one day.” But now that future has been ripped away, too.
