I was there when he arrived, already outside. Something about his arrival and what he said when extinguishing the flames just seemed...perfectly timed. Maybe it doesn't matter. No, I'm sure it doesn't, now. [Then again, isn't that Ish's magic - time?
Andrew pulls her knees up and presses her face to them. She does look very young, then, like she really is a child. She hasn't even earned the right to feel bad for this thing she caused. They could have at least chosen her, and she'd feel like she earned this selfish, childish feeling.]
Would you prefer your gift back? So that you can hold onto it.
[She thinks about all of the socks, her only gifts, going missing all at once; how their absence ate a hole in her. She didn't realize she could feel that way about anyone else.]
[ Simple as that. Maybe it's cruel besides, but...
It's true. Siffrin turns their gaze back down to watch Andrew's expression. She seems so... different, than normal. They really aren't mad at her. Hurt, still, but...
... Her reasoning was sound, really. Even if Siffrin hadn't expected so many people to come to their defense actually. ]
I just wish I could carve you another one next week, like I said I would. [ That's one promise broken... ] Sariel's still learning, and Blade's pretty handy with it... just slow.
Then I'll have to keep it. [Even if it will disappear... maybe there's a way to make it not.
If she convinces Ish that having it will be more painful than losing it, maybe he will make an exception.]
I'm not good at making things. Most everything I've given has been an action. [Yes, her giving love language is Acts of Service... and Siffrin might not be interested in what most of those things have been.] So what... shall I give you?
[Ish has made so many strange, soft allowances... the voice when he descended the stairs with Siffrin's judgment felt more like the lie. Though maybe that's how he makes it so much worse - by allowing them to feel some normal things.]
My hand?
[Andrew lifts her head, some curiosity and surprise on her features.
She, too, turns, enough that they don't have to look at each other through the mirrors, and with some trepidation extends her shaking hand.]
You're such a coward. Only being so "brave" to indulge in this when you won't be seeing anyone after tomorrow. Are you gonna count the seconds again, Siffrin? Pathetic.)
... Thoughts aside, Siffrin gently takes Andrew's trembling hand in both of theirs. Gloves against bare skin is still fine; they can feel the warmth of a living person, even if she coughs every now and then. ]
... I'm not... used to being touched, [ they start off softly, unable to look at her but their uncertain profile clear in reflection, ] so someone I know suggested that I start to get used to it through the loops. Since there was a room that was pretty cramped and I had a good excuse for brushing up against everyone.
[ Just to
feel something, feel their family members' warmth, even if it'd only be recalled by one person.
(You think about how their reactions became less and less. How you became less and less.) ]
[She isn't used to it, either. Mary has sometimes been gentle to her but never beyond professionalism. Only Herta has ever touched her with any sort of kindness. She flinches a little when Siffrin takes her hand, used to being grabbed by the wrist or dragged by it.
But they just hold it.
It is nice, exactly like they said. Because he doesn't owe her anything, he doesn't have to do it because he pities her or because she asked. It might be the most genuine touch she's ever felt.
She cries.]
... I think if anyone had ever loved me, I might have known how to call you a friend.
[The tears don't last for long. They spill out like a shameful and secret overflow of something that can't be expressed, and they fade just as quickly. Andrew doesn't turn them off; her expression doesn't change. It's just like she cried all that could possibly be allowed; it's like her own feelings realized they didn't know how to define themselves and evaporated. She couldn't even say why she was crying.
She might never see Herta again because of this mistake, so how dare she think she have any room in her heart for anyone else?
Despite that... despite that, it isn't the only reason she's in pain.]
And holding my hand...like we were just children playing pretend...that's all you'd ask of me?
[ What else could they ask? This is-- far more than enough (seconds counted, then lost count out, it doesn't matter if this is going to be the first and last time anyway,) and Siffrin really is happy. Happy that she came, that she spoke, that she explained and reached back...
... Really, really happy, that...
(That you were able to reach out first, too, that you were able to ask; it's not easy with your family members, it's embarrassing beyond belief even when it isn't them, but under the guise of comfort...
...
Is that alright, too? Using such an excuse.) ]
Everyone... deserves to be touched, Andrew. [ (even people like you.) ] It's awfully lonely when you don't let yourself be, or no one wants to. That's why children are so clingy.
[ Or why they want to be, anyway. Siffrin remembers the parents of those he'd stayed with chiding them, and he'd never understood why; he knows now it's the reason his family members avoid it too, the odd jump like he's surprised every time someone reaches out. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Andrew pulls her knees up and presses her face to them. She does look very young, then, like she really is a child. She hasn't even earned the right to feel bad for this thing she caused. They could have at least chosen her, and she'd feel like she earned this selfish, childish feeling.]
Would you prefer your gift back? So that you can hold onto it.
[She thinks about all of the socks, her only gifts, going missing all at once; how their absence ate a hole in her. She didn't realize she could feel that way about anyone else.]
no subject
[ Simple as that. Maybe it's cruel besides, but...
It's true. Siffrin turns their gaze back down to watch Andrew's expression. She seems so... different, than normal. They really aren't mad at her. Hurt, still, but...
... Her reasoning was sound, really. Even if Siffrin hadn't expected so many people to come to their defense actually. ]
I just wish I could carve you another one next week, like I said I would. [ That's one promise broken... ] Sariel's still learning, and Blade's pretty handy with it... just slow.
no subject
If she convinces Ish that having it will be more painful than losing it, maybe he will make an exception.]
I'm not good at making things. Most everything I've given has been an action. [Yes, her giving love language is Acts of Service... and Siffrin might not be interested in what most of those things have been.] So what... shall I give you?
no subject
But, what can she do now...
...
It's an odd, selfish request, but-- Siffrin turns slightly. ]
... Your hand.
no subject
My hand?
[Andrew lifts her head, some curiosity and surprise on her features.
She, too, turns, enough that they don't have to look at each other through the mirrors, and with some trepidation extends her shaking hand.]
no subject
You're such a coward. Only being so "brave" to indulge in this when you won't be seeing anyone after tomorrow. Are you gonna count the seconds again, Siffrin? Pathetic.)
... Thoughts aside, Siffrin gently takes Andrew's trembling hand in both of theirs. Gloves against bare skin is still fine; they can feel the warmth of a living person, even if she coughs every now and then. ]
... I'm not... used to being touched, [ they start off softly, unable to look at her but their uncertain profile clear in reflection, ] so someone I know suggested that I start to get used to it through the loops. Since there was a room that was pretty cramped and I had a good excuse for brushing up against everyone.
[ Just to
feel something, feel their family members' warmth, even if it'd only be recalled by one person.
(You think about how their reactions became less and less. How you became less and less.) ]
But I like to hold hands. It's nice.
no subject
But they just hold it.
It is nice, exactly like they said. Because he doesn't owe her anything, he doesn't have to do it because he pities her or because she asked. It might be the most genuine touch she's ever felt.
She cries.]
... I think if anyone had ever loved me, I might have known how to call you a friend.
no subject
But that's okay. You haven't cried in a long, long time yourself. The clouds never rained for a reason.
You can't. Even now.)
Siffrin squeezes her hand with a small, happy smile. ]
You just did. So we're friends. I always hoped I'd be able to call you one too, Andrew.
no subject
She might never see Herta again because of this mistake, so how dare she think she have any room in her heart for anyone else?
Despite that... despite that, it isn't the only reason she's in pain.]
And holding my hand...like we were just children playing pretend...that's all you'd ask of me?
no subject
[ What else could they ask? This is-- far more than enough (seconds counted, then lost count out, it doesn't matter if this is going to be the first and last time anyway,) and Siffrin really is happy. Happy that she came, that she spoke, that she explained and reached back...
... Really, really happy, that...
(That you were able to reach out first, too, that you were able to ask; it's not easy with your family members, it's embarrassing beyond belief even when it isn't them, but under the guise of comfort...
...
Is that alright, too? Using such an excuse.) ]
Everyone... deserves to be touched, Andrew. [ (even people like you.) ] It's awfully lonely when you don't let yourself be, or no one wants to. That's why children are so clingy.
[ Or why they want to be, anyway. Siffrin remembers the parents of those he'd stayed with chiding them, and he'd never understood why; he knows now it's the reason his family members avoid it too, the odd jump like he's surprised every time someone reaches out. ]