Jude
and I'm sick of waiting patiently
It’s true that it’s the worst he has ever seen her, but he has equally never been so bowled over with emotion at seeing her in the first place. Jude can barely feel his feet as he stumbles to her bedside and hits his knees hard, arms immediately going around her to both cling and usher her back down onto the tough mattress she is laying on. Always an emotive boy, tears spring hard and fast to his eyes until they burn.
It’s amazing she can recognize him at all in his opinion given he is now older. His mother hadn’t until they’d met eyes - can Maeve even see that well? She looks so sick. “Maman, it’s me. It’s Jude.” He presses his ear to her chest to hear her heart beating beneath her skin. It’s the only proof he needs to know this isn’t another one of his vivid dreams that insist he has found her, only to awaken with cold, empty arms and wet cheeks. Nights where he crawls into his father’s bed so they can hold each other until sunrise.
“It’s okay maman, I’m gonna get you home. I promise. Just lay down okay?” Jude’s sweet voice begs in a murmur near her ear, pulling at her pillow to readjust it for her. He looks around for the local, but they’ve clearly given him privacy, so he can’t ask about his mother’s illness. “Do you need me to carry you?” He has spindly arms, but nothing would stop him from getting his adopted mother on that skyboat, even if it meant calling on a spirit.
It’s amazing she can recognize him at all in his opinion given he is now older. His mother hadn’t until they’d met eyes - can Maeve even see that well? She looks so sick. “Maman, it’s me. It’s Jude.” He presses his ear to her chest to hear her heart beating beneath her skin. It’s the only proof he needs to know this isn’t another one of his vivid dreams that insist he has found her, only to awaken with cold, empty arms and wet cheeks. Nights where he crawls into his father’s bed so they can hold each other until sunrise.
“It’s okay maman, I’m gonna get you home. I promise. Just lay down okay?” Jude’s sweet voice begs in a murmur near her ear, pulling at her pillow to readjust it for her. He looks around for the local, but they’ve clearly given him privacy, so he can’t ask about his mother’s illness. “Do you need me to carry you?” He has spindly arms, but nothing would stop him from getting his adopted mother on that skyboat, even if it meant calling on a spirit.
for someone that won't ever arrive
