She hated to admit that she has grown selfish in the last few years. It was not always apparent, considering she spent most of her time alone – it was easy to not think of anyone besides yourself when that was all you allowed yourself to have. But she could see it now, as it’s laid so plainly before her when she looks at this man that keeps hinting at wanting to be left alone, and she refuses to grant him such a thing.
She is selfish, and she is lonely, and it is a toxic combination.
“Well, beggars can’t be choosers,” she says with a laugh, and there is a moment where the hardness in her eyes softens. It made her miss being herself, if she could ever remember who that was, exactly. It makes her lower her head from the instinctively guarded stance she was often in, a smile still lingering on her dark lips when she adds, “Actually so far you’re pretty adequate company.”
Some of the sharpness returns when he says not everything has to be a challenge. She wants to ask him what that must be like, to grow up without continually feeling like you needed to prove yourself, and she wonders why she grew up like that. It wasn’t as if her parents cared. Her mother loved Aislyn (and all of her children) regardless of anything. Her father at least acknowledged her existence, which was more than most of her half-siblings could claim. It was an internal pressure she had decided to put on herself, and she couldn’t seem to shed it. “Well, where’s the fun in that?” Is what she says instead, that same faint smile still curved on her lips.
“I rarely lose anything,” she continues, a single ear flicking back at the thunder’s sound rumbling in the distance. “I can go first if you want me to.”
Aislyn
she set fire to all the things that held her back
and from the ashes she stepped into who she always was
@[Warden]