Maeve
Nothing ever felt like the right time. He had always been so hesitant to share his past and hers died by her own hands. It's never come back for her. It's never shoved its drunken way into her path. She's fine with that. Happy with that. Maeve made her choice long ago. The day she gave herself her name. It was something she was never going to go back to. Still, it's something he probably deserves to know. Just another way for him to truly understand her. To know her in ways that no one else does.
Maeve takes the doll, noticing the claws that tip his fingers, brow arching for the span of a breath before her face is neutral once more. Carefully, she slips the doll's arms through the holes of the dress, turning it over to begin sowing the back shut. "Not try, Locke. We will be better. I'll never abandon my child the way my mother abandoned me. I won't shut them outside in the rain for crying because they're scared of lightning." Despite how soft her words are, there is a hard conviction behind them, something like hurt sparking in her eyes. Remembering so vividly being no more than five, crying because of a storm and tossed out into it because her father couldn't be fucked to take care of her.
He wasn't the only one with a fucked up childhood. It didn't make either of them less deserving of love. Otherwise what was the point?
Maeve takes the doll, noticing the claws that tip his fingers, brow arching for the span of a breath before her face is neutral once more. Carefully, she slips the doll's arms through the holes of the dress, turning it over to begin sowing the back shut. "Not try, Locke. We will be better. I'll never abandon my child the way my mother abandoned me. I won't shut them outside in the rain for crying because they're scared of lightning." Despite how soft her words are, there is a hard conviction behind them, something like hurt sparking in her eyes. Remembering so vividly being no more than five, crying because of a storm and tossed out into it because her father couldn't be fucked to take care of her.
He wasn't the only one with a fucked up childhood. It didn't make either of them less deserving of love. Otherwise what was the point?
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
