Anticipation [2430-2-3 Sat 10:30 am]

[Skye Thompson]

As Titus spoke, Skye hung to his every word, closing her eyes as she strained to imagine what it would have been like if she had had such parents. But she could not picture herself as a child, without feeling the dirty buildings rise up around her, blocking out the sun. She could only see her father's crazy eyes, only hear the door slamming behind her mother, the sound of being abandoned.

She opened her eyes in time to see a barely detectable flash of pain cross Titus' face. Somehow she knew that just like her, he was trying not to think, trying not to remember. A wave of guilt washed over her. Titus had done so much for Skye, and in return, she was reminding him of things he didn't want to think about. The happiest days of his life. She could only imagine how much it must hurt him to know they were gone forever. Was it better, she wondered, to at least have those memories to look back on? Or would Titus rather have been like her, not able to imagine such wonderful things, but therefor less hurt by the lack of them? Skye stepped forward. “I'm sorry.” She whispered. She wasn't really sure what she was apologizing for. For bringing up such upsetting things? Or perhaps for the way in which she was about to try to fix her mistake, which was likely to only make him more uncomfortable. But she didn't know any other way to try. So Skye reached out, wound her arms gingerly around Titus' waist, and gave him a hug.

[Titus Vere]

Titus stiffened up when Skye put her arms around him. Even after a few months, he hadn’t quite gotten used to physical contact in any setting other than sex or work. But, after a moment, he carefully put a hand on Skye’s back, his attempt at letting her know that part of him did appreciate this, “It’s fine,” He assured her, “It’s… fine.”

He couldn’t remember the last time someone had simply hugged him. Persephone had never pushed his boundaries. She had simply understood that Titus was broken, broken in ways that were exciting and intriguing, but ultimately unfixable, and so she had never tried to fix him. Persephone had been whole, but Skye was as broken as Titus was. She wore her scars so close to the surface where everyone could see, but all that did was make them easier to see than Titus’ own marks, hidden just beneath the surface.

Titus carefully moved his hand up, setting it on Skye’s head, and pressing her to lay it on his chest. His heart thrummed softly, anxious by all the contact. But he wanted to do this, to let her comfort him, and to comfort her in return, like a real brother and sister would, “It’s fine,” He repeated, and this time, it was directed at himself more than her, “It’s fine.”