01-27-2020, 12:07 AM
She brings with her some relief.
Because she had once been the most important thing in the world to him.
Because he had laid his own life to waste in an effort to protect hers.
And so much has changed since then. They have grown so much, the pair of them.
They had shared a womb once. And they had curled themselves around each other in the days that followed. They had whispered secrets to one another, away from the watchful eye of their mother. They had been thick as thieves, the two of them.
She is still important, his twin sister. He has carried her in his heart, too. And he should have tried to find her in all that time. He should have sought her out before he left Beqanna. And why hadn’t he? His need to leave had felt like the most important thing then. A fish hook in his belly that he could not ignore, not even long enough to say goodbye to his sister. And he had not come back for her either.
He had come back for himself. His reasons purely selfish. Because he had been gripped with grief and did not know where else to go but home. But he had not been looking for her. And this is another heady dose of guilt he forces himself to swallow as she comes closer. She is not angry with him, though he suspects she should be. He had been a good, dutiful brother once and then what? What had he become? What has he become?
She touches him before he can tell her not to. Before he can register her reaching for him and skirt out of reach. She touches him and he knows exactly what she feels. It has been explained to him several times over. Not unpleasant, just cold. As if his sadness seeped from his pores.
But she says his name just as sweetly as she ever did and the smile deepens but does not gain any warmth as he studies her face. Time has aged her, just as it had aged him before he’d kissed their sister’s head and cleaved several years from his life. And then he’d gone and died and it didn’t matter at all.
“So much has happened, Kennice,” he whispers, the voice thin without breath to buoy it. “But I’m so happy to see you.” Perhaps if he were still alive, the heart would have sighed the way it had when he’d stumbled upon their mother in this very meadow. But he is a dead thing and he feels nothing. “Where have you been?” he asks, trying desperately to steer the conversation away from himself, “I’ve missed you.”
Because she had once been the most important thing in the world to him.
Because he had laid his own life to waste in an effort to protect hers.
And so much has changed since then. They have grown so much, the pair of them.
They had shared a womb once. And they had curled themselves around each other in the days that followed. They had whispered secrets to one another, away from the watchful eye of their mother. They had been thick as thieves, the two of them.
She is still important, his twin sister. He has carried her in his heart, too. And he should have tried to find her in all that time. He should have sought her out before he left Beqanna. And why hadn’t he? His need to leave had felt like the most important thing then. A fish hook in his belly that he could not ignore, not even long enough to say goodbye to his sister. And he had not come back for her either.
He had come back for himself. His reasons purely selfish. Because he had been gripped with grief and did not know where else to go but home. But he had not been looking for her. And this is another heady dose of guilt he forces himself to swallow as she comes closer. She is not angry with him, though he suspects she should be. He had been a good, dutiful brother once and then what? What had he become? What has he become?
She touches him before he can tell her not to. Before he can register her reaching for him and skirt out of reach. She touches him and he knows exactly what she feels. It has been explained to him several times over. Not unpleasant, just cold. As if his sadness seeped from his pores.
But she says his name just as sweetly as she ever did and the smile deepens but does not gain any warmth as he studies her face. Time has aged her, just as it had aged him before he’d kissed their sister’s head and cleaved several years from his life. And then he’d gone and died and it didn’t matter at all.
“So much has happened, Kennice,” he whispers, the voice thin without breath to buoy it. “But I’m so happy to see you.” Perhaps if he were still alive, the heart would have sighed the way it had when he’d stumbled upon their mother in this very meadow. But he is a dead thing and he feels nothing. “Where have you been?” he asks, trying desperately to steer the conversation away from himself, “I’ve missed you.”
kensley
I WORSHIPED AT THE ALTAR OF LOSING EVERYTHING