elio
some say I should learn to cry but I only learned how to fight
and I know everything must die but nothing fades like the light
Well, I’m not doing that, is Elio’s immediate thought. He masks his displeasure effortlessly, wondering if his mother truly thinks his curiosity and determination will be tempered. Elio takes proudly after his mother in this regard: headstrong and driven, steadfast on the path he finds is most fit for them all. This thought quirks a smile on the left side of his mouth, one that manages to twinkle suggestively in his eyes.
Logic sets in before Elio can respond, and he knows even if it is begrudging that he will do what Lepis asks of him (though perhaps that can be supplemented with his own investigating?). The half-smile falls as he leans to one side and Elio makes a playful show of weighing his options.
“All right,” is Elio’s concession. “What can I do?” His expression goes from mildly playful to stoic and attentive. Whatever his mother has to say will aid in what searching Elio does for himself. Before Lepis can respond, though, he hastily adds, “I can do whatever needs to be done. It won’t bother me.”
What a terrible lie to tell, but Elio doesn’t know this yet. Oh, it certainly will bother him. It will bother him until the day he dies, and he knows this in the back of his head—not a true thought or knowledge, but a sensation that sours his gut and kicks up old dust in his mind. What actions Elio takes while looking for answers and protection will last a lifetime. The truth is that he doesn’t have what it takes to handle this well; but, really, does anyone? He justifies his mindset this way: if his mother struggles, then it only makes sense that he will struggle, too.
Nevermind Elio’s naivety and denied impulsivity. Nevermind the personality and life he has yet to develop.
I’ll do whatever it takes.
@[Lepis]