She would have been shocked to know he believed her better than him. She does not believe it. Would never dare to. In her heart, she knows, without doubt, that there is something terribly wrong with her. Something that withers the edges of her soul, breaking pieces away with subtle surety. One day she doubts she would even recognize herself.
And maybe that is what makes her the way she is. What presses her into such a small, nondescript box until only mild and meek are left. Until she is unrecognizable as a member of her own family. Until even her mother’s disappointment and her father’s zealousness failed to stir her. (Somewhere in the very darkest recesses of her mind, she knows it is her twin’s death that had snapped that final thread, but it is easier not to acknowledge it.)
Now, on this quiet and mist-strewn beach, she has only one purpose left in life (once it had been Levi, but his fury still shames her). The sharp pains in her stomach remind her all too fervently of that. She knows he is coming, and it is for him she now breathes. Though a small, shameful corner of her heart still hopes his father would prove to be more than the foolish fantasy of a broken heart, she had seen too much of the distant distaste in his dark gaze to believe it.
For a while, time loses meaning. She drifts in a sea of pain, almost relishing it in a masochistic sort of way. No more than she deserves. Until, whether moments or hours later, her son slips onto the sand. Sides damp and breathes short, she allows herself only a moment before struggling into a sternal position. She shifts uncomfortably, moving until she can reach the boy, lips moving instinctively over his struggling form as she ensures he can draw his first breaths.
Until the sounds of another nearby stirs alarm in her breast. Pressing close, she frantically grasps at an ill-used ability as she attempts to erase them from sight. But when she recognizes Illum’s form, she abruptly deflates in relief, whatever hold she’d managed on his vision releasing along with it.
For a long moment, she simply stares up at him, blue eyes unblinking as she attempts to unravel the tangle his arrival had stirred within her. She can only stare as he gazes at their son with a wonder that surprises her. It isn’t until his lips brush against her forehead that her reverie is broken. With a brief, nearly inaudible hum of alarm, she swiftly returns her attention to the colt curling against her side. But as her lips move somewhat mindless across his drying fluff, she realizes Illum had asked her a question.
“Yes, I am… we are well,” she replies with desperate belatedness.
Make me a promise that time won't erase us
That we were not lost from the start
Rapture
@[Illum]