growing roses in the disarray

MAEA

Carry me through this world alive
I feel no more, this suffering

"Really? Why?" she asked, before Maea could stop herself. His tone had changed, grown harder, less mechanic, but while she did want to draw him out of his shell, it was not to anger or discomfort. Preferably. But then again, perhaps any reaction was better than none at this point?

As for talking about Noah, it was difficult. Quite necessary though, if she was to keep his memory alive, she in the end Maea shook her head with a weak little smile. "It's alright, I don't mind. We were very close. He was... about nine years or so older than me, and had a big part in raising me, since our mother died when I was born. He was as much a second father as a brother, and there was nothing I couldn't tell him." Not twins but still close as two people could be. With the bond of blood and kin tying them and love to strengthen it, their connection had run deep and true.

"He looked a bit like you," she revealed, considering Loren. "In height and colors, at least, though his eyes were paler blue, and he rarely ever stopped smiling." Not meant as a barb, merely a suggestion that they wore different masks to shield themselves with.

Bury me in this cold light
I feed the wolf, and shed my skin