⠀⠀⠀⠀the longer natalia looked at her, the more wrong it became. it wasn't the face nor the features; albeit natalia would still argue that this person looks older, more mature than what she remembered katerina to have been – even though she wasn't sure if her memory was even correct at all.
⠀⠀⠀⠀no, the features were unbearable in their familiarity. every angle of it dragged blurred and faded memories back. glimpses of laughter near riverbanks. dark curls illuminated by firelight. whispered conversations beneath blankets while the rest of the household slept. no, it was not the face that felt wrong. it was everything beneath it.
⠀⠀⠀⠀the stillness. the restraint. the neutrality in every word. natalia watched her carefully as she spoke, watched the way her expression barely shifted, the way every response felt chosen before it was given. there should have been something else there. shock. disbelief. anger. relief. something. anything.
⠀⠀⠀⠀instead there was only carefulness. and slowly, horribly, realization began settling beneath her ribs.
⠀⠀⠀⠀her brows pulled together more visibly now, uncertainty turning into something far more difficult to ignore. because this was not how someone reacted when they thought they had lost their sister centuries ago only to find her standing alive in front of them. this was how someone reacted to a stranger they were trying to understand.
⠀⠀⠀⠀the thought landed heavily enough that for a second she simply stared at her again in silence, studying every minute movement. the softness of the voice that never quite reached warmth. the vagueness behind the words. even the questions themselves felt wrong. detached.
⠀⠀⠀⠀'how is it that you are here?' not 'where have you been'. not 'you survived'. not 'i'm sorry i left you there; believing you were murdered'. not natalia. not even a 'go away; i have closed this chapter a long time ago'. her throat tightened faintly.
⠀⠀⠀⠀"do you..." she began before stopping herself again, the words catching awkwardly against thoughts that suddenly no longer aligned properly. "do you even know who i am?" she asked at last.
⠀⠀⠀⠀the question came softer than intended. smaller, somehow.
⠀⠀⠀⠀"my name," she continued after a brief pause, "do you know it?" there it was again. that terrible absence where recognition should have been. a faint breath left her as she looked away briefly, jaw tightening.
⠀⠀⠀⠀"because your questions..." she swallowed once before continuing. "they sound like questions someone asks a stranger." her attention returned immediately afterward, drawn back despite herself.
⠀⠀⠀⠀"you never came back." the words were quiet, and devastatingly so.
⠀⠀⠀⠀1492 still lingered like broken glass beneath her skin. fragments without shape. blood across stone floors. her mother screaming. her own voice somewhere in the chaos before it vanished completely beneath something else; something her mind refused to hold properly. she could remember what she believed to be fear and pain. the smell of blood. and blue eyes.
⠀⠀⠀⠀but afterward? nothing. only silence.
⠀⠀⠀⠀"after..." she started softly, only for the sentence to fracture apart midway through. her expression shifted with visible frustration, as though her mind had suddenly slammed into something solid and invisible. "after that night, you were just..." her brows knit tighter. "gone."
⠀⠀⠀⠀the absence of the memory unsettled her every single time, and at the same time, it also didn't. like reaching for a door only to find a wall where it should have been but at the same time also being strangely okay with it.
⠀⠀⠀⠀slowly, her shoulders lowered again. she watched the subtle circle tatia moved in around her, the careful distance never fully crossed, and somehow even that felt deliberate in ways natalia could not entirely explain.
⠀⠀⠀⠀"you look at me like you’re trying to figure out who i’m supposed to be." but at the same time, she never said ‘sorry, i don’t know you and i've never seen you in my life'. it's like she pretended to know her but in reality, didn't know anything at all. || @xnokturn
