I'm still dancing to tapes that keep playing in my head
while snow falls and lights are flickering
while snow falls and lights are flickering
There’s so many words and faces it’s almost overwhelming, but given this is his last chance to see any of them before they join him in death, Enzo tries to be a model student (which he never was in life) to stretch his attention wide enough to encompass all of them. Like dominos he tries to respond to each in turn; Flora’s arms like iron bands around his waist, his own just as hard around her shoulders. Most of his rebuttals, even playful, would hurt her far too much, so instead Enzo knocks their temples together. “I don’t wanna be livin’ it up with Mort and Vai while you’re slumming it down here, Flo. If I can’t enjoy it, you have to do it for me!” She’s not the only one encumbered by the guilt of what had happened to the other twin. “Anyway, grief is only fetching the first six months, are you really going to outstay your welcome for the trend?” His grinning face returns as he beckons her backwards with her arms still glued around his neck, a beacon that guides her forward into the fold of their family’s arms.
One hand curls around Mateo’s shoulder, giving him a brotherly shake - his father can manage little more than his name, so he can wait a moment longer duh. “All in your name, fratello. I’m hoping to crash your cred before you even arrive.” Vai was having none of it, but they didn’t need to know that.
And then his parents. They cling to him desperately, and Mort’s soothing, bright presence is the only reason his heart doesn’t crack fully in two to witness it. No child wants to see their parents brought so low. He places lingering kisses on their cheeks and temples, and pulls them both closer with his free arm. He’s always been too sarcastic to be the wordsmith Flora is, and none of his family line are particularly gifted in the art of sincerity, but Enzo is the king of the Good College Try. “I’ve missed you both too,” he murmurs given their closeness, “and I love you both so much. And it wasn’t your fault - any of you.” His eyes traverse Remi’s face, then Hotaru’s, then a quick glance at Flora’s and Mateo’s. “There’s no hurt with Mort. I’m not alone, either.” Vai and Aoife, the sister he’d never known. “If were calling this my last request, I just want you guys to be happy. To smile when you think of me and all that sappy stuff. I can’t come back, sure, but I’ll still see you all in the end - what’s a little waiting, yknow?” He runs out of sincerity-steam, smile lopsided and awkward as he aims it at anyone who cares to meet his eyes. Gods he’d never even been to a funeral, he has no eulogies or condolences in his repertoire, and now he’s gotta do his own? Lame.
One hand curls around Mateo’s shoulder, giving him a brotherly shake - his father can manage little more than his name, so he can wait a moment longer duh. “All in your name, fratello. I’m hoping to crash your cred before you even arrive.” Vai was having none of it, but they didn’t need to know that.
And then his parents. They cling to him desperately, and Mort’s soothing, bright presence is the only reason his heart doesn’t crack fully in two to witness it. No child wants to see their parents brought so low. He places lingering kisses on their cheeks and temples, and pulls them both closer with his free arm. He’s always been too sarcastic to be the wordsmith Flora is, and none of his family line are particularly gifted in the art of sincerity, but Enzo is the king of the Good College Try. “I’ve missed you both too,” he murmurs given their closeness, “and I love you both so much. And it wasn’t your fault - any of you.” His eyes traverse Remi’s face, then Hotaru’s, then a quick glance at Flora’s and Mateo’s. “There’s no hurt with Mort. I’m not alone, either.” Vai and Aoife, the sister he’d never known. “If were calling this my last request, I just want you guys to be happy. To smile when you think of me and all that sappy stuff. I can’t come back, sure, but I’ll still see you all in the end - what’s a little waiting, yknow?” He runs out of sincerity-steam, smile lopsided and awkward as he aims it at anyone who cares to meet his eyes. Gods he’d never even been to a funeral, he has no eulogies or condolences in his repertoire, and now he’s gotta do his own? Lame.
frozen in last winter's bed
Enzo
