[That emotional resonance nearly stills him in place like tar around his feet — he has not felt his sister's interior world since they were children, when it was normal for them to share everything with each other, their experiences jointly had. Even upon his last goodbye she was as opaque to him as a sky without stars, everything below the surface finely tuned. He wonders when that became the expectation between them. Perhaps she would have reached out, if he'd allowed it, but their separation demanded further distance instead.
Have they spent more of their lives, now, apart than together?
She will find his own emotions — quieter. Except for that first harsh pluck of a discordant string, the dread and uncertainty combined in the realization of her presence here, Sunday marshals himself. He's had plenty of practice at it, and perhaps such a habit is more difficult to break even afterward. Even in the wake of his great failure. Perhaps it is even more extreme, to show that he has stood back up and continued on as she'd wished for him.
An empty bedroom he does find, as it seems this place holds no lack of them. The guard has let them go unimpeded. In a strange moment of courtesy, he holds the door for her to enter first ahead of him, and if Robin looks at him she'll find his eyes diverted, his face downturned.
The room isn't large, but there's a chaise and a dresser, a vanity, a standing mirror... and the bed, which Sunday pointedly ignores. There's a fake window as well, guised to appear as if they're in the forest surrounded by trees. There's the distant sounds of birdcall far off somewhere.]
How long have you been here?
[Please sit down and are you okay? are competing in his mind — but instead he chooses this, somehow tenuously between both, a question that burns out of his throat.]
no subject
Have they spent more of their lives, now, apart than together?
She will find his own emotions — quieter. Except for that first harsh pluck of a discordant string, the dread and uncertainty combined in the realization of her presence here, Sunday marshals himself. He's had plenty of practice at it, and perhaps such a habit is more difficult to break even afterward. Even in the wake of his great failure. Perhaps it is even more extreme, to show that he has stood back up and continued on as she'd wished for him.
An empty bedroom he does find, as it seems this place holds no lack of them. The guard has let them go unimpeded. In a strange moment of courtesy, he holds the door for her to enter first ahead of him, and if Robin looks at him she'll find his eyes diverted, his face downturned.
The room isn't large, but there's a chaise and a dresser, a vanity, a standing mirror... and the bed, which Sunday pointedly ignores. There's a fake window as well, guised to appear as if they're in the forest surrounded by trees. There's the distant sounds of birdcall far off somewhere.]
How long have you been here?
[Please sit down and are you okay? are competing in his mind — but instead he chooses this, somehow tenuously between both, a question that burns out of his throat.]