Maeve
A task that should be fairly easy, all things considered. While the movement causes a new sort of discomfort, it pales in comparison to the knowledge that she's finally going to be home. Aidon curls at the foot of the bed, keeping watch and her feet warm, amber eyes locked on the door as his bonded finally knows a semblance of peace once more.
He's right. She doesn't want to hear it. Her heart shatters in her chest, surely audible to her adopted son as he kneels beside her, clenching tightly to her hand. Maeve squeezes her eyes shut against the onslaught of tears. "He must hate me..." She whispers, unable to keep the thought to herself, unable to stop the words from slipping past her lips just as much as helpless as she was to stop the salt streaming from her eyes.
The news of his leadership is surprising in the simple fact that Harper never wanted to lead in that capacity, but it doesn't surprise her that he stepped into the role. That he was chosen by the people. "Good... Good... I- I'm glad he's moving on." The 'without me' goes unspoken and Maeve feels a surge of guilt for placing this on her son's shoulders. Weakly a hand raises to his curls, brushing through them limply, "And how are you, ma chérie? Avez-vous pris soin de vous?"
He's right. She doesn't want to hear it. Her heart shatters in her chest, surely audible to her adopted son as he kneels beside her, clenching tightly to her hand. Maeve squeezes her eyes shut against the onslaught of tears. "He must hate me..." She whispers, unable to keep the thought to herself, unable to stop the words from slipping past her lips just as much as helpless as she was to stop the salt streaming from her eyes.
The news of his leadership is surprising in the simple fact that Harper never wanted to lead in that capacity, but it doesn't surprise her that he stepped into the role. That he was chosen by the people. "Good... Good... I- I'm glad he's moving on." The 'without me' goes unspoken and Maeve feels a surge of guilt for placing this on her son's shoulders. Weakly a hand raises to his curls, brushing through them limply, "And how are you, ma chérie? Avez-vous pris soin de vous?"
I'm undone about to burst at my seams
'Cause I am picturing you beside me
So let me be everything that you need
'Cause I am picturing you beside me
So let me be everything that you need
