What am I to you? ( @ thomas )
❝ stupid. ❞ he said in a low voice. almost hissed as if the very question was a waste of his time and it was. he didn’t have time to coddle his children. he had taught them better. he taught them how to survive. how to be smarter. how to be one step ahead. to always be concerned about one thing and one thing only: the lefurgey. ❝ i taught you better, didn’t i? ❞
that boy made you stupid. that boy made you weak. that boy made you vulnerable. he shouldn’t have let her go so far ahead with that boy. that ackerman. this wedding, whatever happened there, he should have told her to come home to dc. to help with her brother’s career. she is breaking and he hates broken things.
he would not handle anything but the best. he did not need a dull knife. he needed someone sharp. he needed someone that could easily slit the the throat of anyone he desired without needing more force than necessary. ❝ stupid little girl with stupid questions. despicable. ❞ rising up to his feet, he towered over her. she was still that small little girl that he picked up from the slums of that god forsaken village. she was still moldable. she was still to be made in his image. to be his perfect daughter that will cut better than any knife. ❝ you are my flesh and blood. you are my child. and i do not have weak children. i don’t have children that are weak and stupid. i don’t have children that need their father to pat them on the back when they do a good job. i need children to know when their actions are good enough, and so far, asking what you are to me. is a stupid imbecile question. a disappointment of my flesh and blood to think that she needs affirmation to be know who she is. you are a lefrugey. end of conversation. ❞