Min
She/Her
20
January 3rd
Rustboro City
Pansexual
Student/Trainer
Civilian
i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.
TAG WITH @autumn
AUTUMN ANDERSON
Who Ordered A Family Reunion?
POSTED ON Dec 12, 2022 17:45:08 GMT
How are they supposed to bridge the silence that settles between them, as awkward and ill-fitting as the word family, as sisters? Autumn probably should have given that some consideration before she called Elinor's bluff. Or at least before Elinor had decided not to back down and settled on the couch beside her, deciding to keep what little peace remained between them, to forestall the inevitable. Was it an olive branch or a challenge? A means by which to move forward, or a trap?
Autumn considers her sister for a moment. Considers all the myriad possibilities that settle between them in the silence. Considers the heaviness of it, and can't help feeling that this is a mistake, because she doesn't want to ask about Elinor's day, not really. She doesn't care about the day to day minutae of helping to run a region, or what duties she'd tied herself to over the years, each pulling her further, and further, and further away.
The old resentment is there in her like a stone - dirty, and heavy, and angry, and everything in her wants to hurl that stone at Elinor, to level accusation after accusation. It wouldn't be the first time. It would, however, be the first time that Elinor had been around to hear any of it, and maybe that's what keeps the words lodged firmly in her throat, a lump that she can't quite swallow around.
Elinor's not talking either. Of course she's not, what could they possibly have to say to each other after all these years?
It's not until Minh arrives that the silence is broken. Not until the bagon hops up onto Elinor's lap and she smiles at it like there's a single thing in the Arceus damned world that she might actually care about that the words free themselves.
"Is that a smile I spy? What do you know, you're not made of stone after all. Who'd have guessed?" The words are as much as a barb on the outside as they had been within, mostly because they aren't the right words. They aren't what she wants to say, but that doesn't matter. What Autumn wants never has.
"So, what do you think dinner's gonna be?" she adds, a bit too hurried to be anything more than deflection, a smoothing out of the moment that doesn't belong and, much like Elinor herself, probably won't stick around anyway.
Elinor Anderson
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