this is why we can't have nice things, honey
Though Flora crosses her arms so tight one might wonder how she was supposed to breathe, and though her eyes narrow to small pinpoints of blue, she doesn't I don't care Aoife's death. At least, not right away.
Staring at the changes in Ronin's expression, at the rollercoaster movements of his eyebrows and movements of his mouth, eventually Flora just shrugs and turns away. "Here's the thing though. When you're little, girls are told that boys are mean because it's how they show they like you." She flicks her fingers at an ugly brooch—the sort of thing she'd have adored when she was younger. "And girls are supposed to just think it's okay, but you know what? It isn't. Same way that Mateo's bullshit might be his way of showing he cares, but just like those little boys, it's wrong. I don't have to be the bigger person and go, oh, well he meant well, or he didn't know how to handle it. He can fucking figure it out, or he can deal with me hating him, and you can too."
Just then, as if something had just occurred to her (and guess what, it had), Flora's eyes widen and harden. "If you're such an expert on grief because of your brother and Aoife—" (Her voice does soften at the mention of Aoife) "—then as Mateo's dad, you should have taught him how to do better. Both you and Remi should have."
Staring at the changes in Ronin's expression, at the rollercoaster movements of his eyebrows and movements of his mouth, eventually Flora just shrugs and turns away. "Here's the thing though. When you're little, girls are told that boys are mean because it's how they show they like you." She flicks her fingers at an ugly brooch—the sort of thing she'd have adored when she was younger. "And girls are supposed to just think it's okay, but you know what? It isn't. Same way that Mateo's bullshit might be his way of showing he cares, but just like those little boys, it's wrong. I don't have to be the bigger person and go, oh, well he meant well, or he didn't know how to handle it. He can fucking figure it out, or he can deal with me hating him, and you can too."
Just then, as if something had just occurred to her (and guess what, it had), Flora's eyes widen and harden. "If you're such an expert on grief because of your brother and Aoife—" (Her voice does soften at the mention of Aoife) "—then as Mateo's dad, you should have taught him how to do better. Both you and Remi should have."
