03-31-2019, 01:44 PM
(This post was last modified: 03-31-2019, 01:44 PM by selby roux !.)
[align=center][div style="width: 51%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: georgia;"]Selby had begun to think of leaving when he heard his father’s foot steps. Surely, after all, being a leader required a lot of time and energy? Surely that meant the there would be no time for a son that never remembered to visit? Well, whether or not there was time, Crow was here.
And his heart dropped with Crow’s gaze. Is he so angry with me that he won’t look at me? That thought festered, curling in his chest and stealing his breath away. It made sense. Crow had every right to be angry at him for never bothering to say hello.
It was a long beat before he remembered to speak. ”H-hey,” he said, almost too quietly to be audible. Less like you’re afraid of him? ”Hey,” he tried again, his voice clearer and louder.
He held out the bracelet shyly. He had spent ages on it, longer than he would’ve for most other people. ”I, er, made this for you. To say congrats for becoming leader, even if circumstances weren’t so great. And also,” he began, swallowing any doubt and reminding himself to breathe, ”to say sorry. I’m sorry for being a bad son. I want to have a relationship with you, even if my actions have been... contradictory to that. I’m sorry.”
And there it was. Guilt he hadn’t been aware he was feeling melted away, slowly but surely, leaving sweet relief in its wake. He hadn’t been forgiven, and he very well might not be, but the simple act of voicing his concerns had made him feel so much lighter. It was a surprise, but one that came of having lived not quite long enough to have had the time to do something so treacherous that the thought of addressing it brought more distress than the act itself had.
And his heart dropped with Crow’s gaze. Is he so angry with me that he won’t look at me? That thought festered, curling in his chest and stealing his breath away. It made sense. Crow had every right to be angry at him for never bothering to say hello.
It was a long beat before he remembered to speak. ”H-hey,” he said, almost too quietly to be audible. Less like you’re afraid of him? ”Hey,” he tried again, his voice clearer and louder.
He held out the bracelet shyly. He had spent ages on it, longer than he would’ve for most other people. ”I, er, made this for you. To say congrats for becoming leader, even if circumstances weren’t so great. And also,” he began, swallowing any doubt and reminding himself to breathe, ”to say sorry. I’m sorry for being a bad son. I want to have a relationship with you, even if my actions have been... contradictory to that. I’m sorry.”
And there it was. Guilt he hadn’t been aware he was feeling melted away, slowly but surely, leaving sweet relief in its wake. He hadn’t been forgiven, and he very well might not be, but the simple act of voicing his concerns had made him feel so much lighter. It was a surprise, but one that came of having lived not quite long enough to have had the time to do something so treacherous that the thought of addressing it brought more distress than the act itself had.