Weight | Nero
Nero sighed at her reply to his useless outburst. What he said wasn’t necessary– or perhaps the way he said it wasn’t the right way. It wasn’t a chore or a burden to make sure she was alright– he wanted to. He breathed out a curse and if his hands weren’t busy, you could bet that his palm would be busy smacking his face over and over for a few good minutes.
Watching her grief swell into the uncontrollable fury was like watching a wave roll onto a shore, and upon the realization that there was nothing they could do about their past, the anger in her face bubbled away like sea foam. Only replaced with the familiar anxiety that they suffer day by day.
A part of Nero wished that he had been there, to see what she had seen. Help Sice bear a bit of it, if he could. The sound of her voice caused a quiet shh to escape from his lips and he freed a hand to place upon her head.
“I’m not about to apologize for their mess again,” he said quietly, still trying to calm his sister. His arm that suffered the consequences of their parent’s anger began to throb in pain– so much that it actually made him wince as if the damage was fresh.
“I mean, since when was our life ever easy? Never, if you ask me.” If she was strong enough to start talking mild trash about them, then he felt that it was safe enough to lay off the protectiveness bit by bit. Just until they can stand tall together again. It was always a worry to him that he was being too much and he would hate to smother her with it.
But if he wasn’t focused on her, the only thing that was left was himself. His jaw tightened and the pain in his arm never let up yet. The anxiety he forced himself to swallow down was coming back up and he only hoped that he wouldn’t vomit from the intense emotion.
“I’m sure they’ll never find their peace, even if they try. So, I hope that helps ya a bit.” Sweat began to from on his forehead and a brow was lifted at the other, waiting for Sice’s reply while he gently tied the cloth to her hand.
“Y’don’ have to- shouldn’ have to.” She sighs, finding her nerves settling into a comfortable anger, not only at her parents, but at herself. For reacting so poorly in the face of a woman who hadn’t caused nearly as much harm to them as their father. In a way, she could sympathize, knowing she likely faced much the same abuse from their father.
But that did not equate forgiveness.
“I’m jus’... conflicted,” she mutters, gaze fixed on the cloth now wrapped firmly on her cut. Her hand was beginning to feel numb, and she was hoping that didn’t mean she might very well need stitches. It seemed shallow enough, but the bleeding had yet to stop. A few drips of it had fallen to the floor and she haphazardly ran the underside of the wrapping against the floor to clean it off. The last thing she wanted to explain to their landlord were a few bloodstains on the wood floor.
Part of her isn’t sure if she should approach this particular topic, but she does it regardless. It’s weighed on her mind for a while now, and she felt like she deserved to, at least, express her feelings. “I don’.. forgive her for it. For leavin’ us.” She mutters, flexing her fingers idly, keeping the feeling from leaving completely. She felt utterly abandoned. Thought that her life meant nothing in comparison, and it stung. The most, when he had really laid into her... and if not for Nero, she would’ve... She takes a steadying breath, trying to force that unpleasant memory from affecting her too much. “But part of me... can understand why.”
Her hand shifts, as she’s watching it idly curious of the cut, considering the finger exercises have done nothing to help bring it back from feeling numb. The tips of her fingers are tingling and after a moment, she glances up at her brother. Her mind immediately drops from her possibly necessary hospital trip, despite the blood now dripping through the cloth and onto the floor once more, with gravity incapable of pooling it all into her palm with it turned like it was. Instead she’s lifting her unharmed hand up, brushing the sweat from his brow with a thumb.
“Hey, y’okay? s’it yer arm again?”