Jude
Thread by thread, I come apart
If brokenness is a work of art, this must be my masterpiece
Oh, Jude hasn't outgrown that meek politeness she once knew. In fact he feels rather adrift when she confidently leaves him alone in her entryway to disappear into rooms he faintly remembers the shapes and layouts of. He follows in her wake, shoulders slowly dropping. Her presence is comforting as it always was and he's no better at resisting it with a few extra years. If brokenness is a work of art, this must be my masterpiece
Sitting gingerly at the island, Jude takes the offered mug with a small smile that vanishes beneath his ducked head and accompanying plentiful curls as he sweetens it with a single spoonful of honey. Though he slowly stirs the tea instead of drinking it while he gathers the courage to answer her.
"My dad...he didn't know many people around here, at least not closely." Jude is wary to discuss him with any Torchers given the sour ending his father had left on, but Lyra doesn't strike him as the bitter type. "He had a few things he'd always mentioned handing down to me. I know he didn't have them when he -" was murdered. Jude's throat closes brutally around the words, strangling them into silence. What sort of son is he, to have never tried to solve that mystery? His fingers tremble slightly as he raises the mug to chase away the lump in his throat with tea. Clears his throat afterward like it was merely a skip or a cough. "He left me a letter in my apartment. I think he knew it was coming and I just...I wanted to know if he'd given anything to you for safe keeping?" His eyes finally emerge to peer out from his hair, not daring to hope but still wondering. He knows the only other options are Maea and Hadama, and as far as Jude knows the former is dead and the latter...well, he's admittedly scared to face the Tidebreaker for more personal reasons.
