Sevira Aratae
Sevira wasn't quite sure why she bothered with her family. If only her father hadn't been in Europe on that stupid trip, if only he could be back soon from dealing with those silly legal issues, then none of this would have happened. If only he could keep a single promise to her, then maybe everything could be fixed. Not like she was sitting on her bed, braiding her hair, though. Not like she was keeping quiet for her mother and 'the baby', Albert, the poor little b*****d who would grow up in the house next door to his real father while his mother's husband led a lie of a life, trying to convince himself that it was possible Albert was his. None of it would work; it hadn't worked for her.
But she definitely was not keeping quiet. She was standing in the living room, the one actually used by the family, facing her mother like La Belle Claire was the last thing she wanted to be talking to. They were both retaliating, and pulling up entirely new topics. "You little b***h," Claire snarled in French as she rocked her son gently, trying to lull him to sleep. "How dare you come here and accuse me of such - such transgressions?" Sevira had tried to give her mother some space and time after Albert's birth, but it had been months, and she was getting more than a little tired of the flimsy pretence they had both attempted to uphold in the beginning. Practically everyone knew that there was no way Albert could be Kaede's son, though Sevira found it doubtful her mother would have informed the actual father's wife. If she'd notified Albert's actual father himself they could consider themselves lucky.
"Transgressions?" she responded in the same language, biting a strand of hair that had found its way to her mouth. She would have to get it cut again, shorter - maybe a pixie cut; Rosiie could pull those off well, even if Sevira wasn't so sure about herself - if she wanted to avoid nervous habits. "This isn't a transgression, Mother. This is serious! You ******** cheated on Father, and you expect me to sit here and take that? You're disrespecting him, Mother. Isn't he good enough for you any more? Aren't I good enough?" she demanded, eyes blazing as much as a dark blue could. Anyone passing by, unless they were a fluent speaker of French, might assume they were having a friendly disagreement. Not an argument that could slice the family into pieces. "Or am I just a 'little b***h'?" she asked, mocking her mother's much more severe form of her own speech impediment. They both hissed on their S's, dragging them out like they were freaking snakes. Sevira had tried going to years of speech therapy in an attempt to work on hers, and had only succeeded in making it slightly less noticeable. The therapy had been dropped recently.
"Shut up," Claire growled, holding her son a little tighter and closer to her. "He's your brother as much as anything else, so-" She paused in consternation when her teenage daughter just shook her head, turned, and walked out. "Get back here!" Sevira kept shaking her head slowly and formulated a quiet plan. She would have to figure out who Tyr, her next-door neighbour and childhood frienemy, had given her box of most precious things to. Someone they could both trust with her life, she thought. They had to know it was important. God, did she need to run away right now.
But she definitely was not keeping quiet. She was standing in the living room, the one actually used by the family, facing her mother like La Belle Claire was the last thing she wanted to be talking to. They were both retaliating, and pulling up entirely new topics. "You little b***h," Claire snarled in French as she rocked her son gently, trying to lull him to sleep. "How dare you come here and accuse me of such - such transgressions?" Sevira had tried to give her mother some space and time after Albert's birth, but it had been months, and she was getting more than a little tired of the flimsy pretence they had both attempted to uphold in the beginning. Practically everyone knew that there was no way Albert could be Kaede's son, though Sevira found it doubtful her mother would have informed the actual father's wife. If she'd notified Albert's actual father himself they could consider themselves lucky.
"Transgressions?" she responded in the same language, biting a strand of hair that had found its way to her mouth. She would have to get it cut again, shorter - maybe a pixie cut; Rosiie could pull those off well, even if Sevira wasn't so sure about herself - if she wanted to avoid nervous habits. "This isn't a transgression, Mother. This is serious! You ******** cheated on Father, and you expect me to sit here and take that? You're disrespecting him, Mother. Isn't he good enough for you any more? Aren't I good enough?" she demanded, eyes blazing as much as a dark blue could. Anyone passing by, unless they were a fluent speaker of French, might assume they were having a friendly disagreement. Not an argument that could slice the family into pieces. "Or am I just a 'little b***h'?" she asked, mocking her mother's much more severe form of her own speech impediment. They both hissed on their S's, dragging them out like they were freaking snakes. Sevira had tried going to years of speech therapy in an attempt to work on hers, and had only succeeded in making it slightly less noticeable. The therapy had been dropped recently.
"Shut up," Claire growled, holding her son a little tighter and closer to her. "He's your brother as much as anything else, so-" She paused in consternation when her teenage daughter just shook her head, turned, and walked out. "Get back here!" Sevira kept shaking her head slowly and formulated a quiet plan. She would have to figure out who Tyr, her next-door neighbour and childhood frienemy, had given her box of most precious things to. Someone they could both trust with her life, she thought. They had to know it was important. God, did she need to run away right now.