11-10-2018, 11:43 PM
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11px;"]Wasn't everything you did for yourself?
The thought, strange and unnatural, nearly bubbled to the surface, prepared to brace cinnamon-colored lips and enter the chilly air before she managed to catch herself. How absolutely odd it was to feel the need to bite back, Cleo's cheeks reddening at the very idea. She did not like her mother, that much was certain, but even the thought of disrespecting her in such an outward fashion made her nauseous. So the undersized child resigned to keeping her mouth shut, merely processing Aphra's too-quiet words for a moment before finally drawing her gaze back up. That cold expression... those colder words... She felt the need to run away, to escape this danger before it could hurt her. She was a fool for remaining rooted in place, tiny claws hooking into the earth in some attempt to ground her.
"He's still here but... None of your other children are." Cleo doubted that she cared. Once a deadbeat, always a deadbeat, she supposed. She would not lie though: the bengal wanted a mother. She wanted someone to hold her tightly in an embrace and not let go, wiping away her tears and chasing away that crushing darkness. Pincher was more than capable of filling both roles, but he had so many responsibilities to tend to that she doubted he'd find time for his disgrace of a child. Why did it have to be Aphra? Why did it have to be someone who made her feel so utterly alone? "I'm sure," Cleo would begin in that trembling voice of hers, hardly audible as she stared at her mother, "that you know how to get settled in, Aphra."
And then, she was turning to leave.
The thought, strange and unnatural, nearly bubbled to the surface, prepared to brace cinnamon-colored lips and enter the chilly air before she managed to catch herself. How absolutely odd it was to feel the need to bite back, Cleo's cheeks reddening at the very idea. She did not like her mother, that much was certain, but even the thought of disrespecting her in such an outward fashion made her nauseous. So the undersized child resigned to keeping her mouth shut, merely processing Aphra's too-quiet words for a moment before finally drawing her gaze back up. That cold expression... those colder words... She felt the need to run away, to escape this danger before it could hurt her. She was a fool for remaining rooted in place, tiny claws hooking into the earth in some attempt to ground her.
"He's still here but... None of your other children are." Cleo doubted that she cared. Once a deadbeat, always a deadbeat, she supposed. She would not lie though: the bengal wanted a mother. She wanted someone to hold her tightly in an embrace and not let go, wiping away her tears and chasing away that crushing darkness. Pincher was more than capable of filling both roles, but he had so many responsibilities to tend to that she doubted he'd find time for his disgrace of a child. Why did it have to be Aphra? Why did it have to be someone who made her feel so utterly alone? "I'm sure," Cleo would begin in that trembling voice of hers, hardly audible as she stared at her mother, "that you know how to get settled in, Aphra."
And then, she was turning to leave.