Bonabelle Row
February 15, 2021 11:14 PM
We need to talk. [Uncle Killian] by Bonabelle Row
Grandma and grandpa were coming to town soon. The school year was ending soon. They would all be going . . . somewhere. Soon. With Ema in the picture now, Bonabelle wasn't sure exactly where Uncle Killian was going and while she reluctantly couldn't help liking Ema, she also didn't want to hash out family issues with her there. Or admit that she liked her, just in case she either ran away or took Uncle Killian away. Neither of those things were okay with Bonabelle, but she wouldn't admit those things either.It was Uncle Killian's door she knocked at today, as she'd done so many times over the past three years. Between weekly tea times, birthdays, and random other needs - he was, after all, also her guidance counselor - Bonabelle was a frequent visitor in her uncle's office. Today was not a tea time or a birthday and while it was a random other need, it wasn't guidance counseloring she was in need of. Well, she was but not at this particular moment.
When the familiar voice on the other side of the door called out to let her in, using his most standard I don't know who this is yet so I need to behave voice, Bonabelle pushed the door open and cocked her head at her uncle. He was sitting at his desk, looking for all the world like he belonged there even though that didn't make sense to Bonabelle. How could he belong there when she didn't belong here? How could someone who looked like her father but wasn't her father belong at Sonora? She didn't return his grin today, which wasn't entirely unusual, although she wasn't usually as tight-lipped and thoughtful as she was today either.
Uncle Killian cocked his head back at her as she closed the door, crossed the room, and took a seat. She was quiet for a moment and he let her be, which she would have appreciated if she had been of the mind to do any such thing. When she finally spoke, her voice had the same tone of uncertainty and discomfort it had had when she gave in and told Valentine about some of her problems; this was unfamiliar territory for her and she didn't like it at all.
"It's been memories floating around the school," she began, to which her uncle nodded. "Did any of them belong to you?" He nodded again, more slowly, and she was pretty sure she saw his jaw clench slightly. "But none of the ones that were on the wall in Cascade Hall," she guessed, although it wasn't really a question. She wasn't sure how she knew, but she did know. He nodded slowly again. "You have memories of my dad," she said, speaking quietly now and making a point not to link anything between this topic and the one immediately prior; she was sure her uncle had a whole lot of memories that shouldn't be put up on display for his students to see. "I want to see some."
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Bonabelle Row
We need to talk. [Uncle Killian]
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Killian Row
February 15, 2021 11:23 PM
Not about this. by Killian Row
Killian tried to remember the times he'd regretted punching Lorcan in the face because he was pretty sure right now that he should've done it more often. The thought that strangling the man entirely would have been for the best almost crossed his mind but he didn't want to think any sort of thoughts that might suggest it would be best if Bonny wasn't around and so he resolved instead to think only that he'd like to punch his brother again sometime if the opportunity arose and if it were appropriate to do. He was pretty sure Ema would agree that it was appropriate to do but he knew he wouldn't really do it unless he had to; violence, he had long since decided, was not a sibling resemblance he wanted to bear.Bonabelle was working through her words and Killian didn't have any back for her, only nodding until she got to the point she was trying to make. It wasn't a question and Killian suspected she had rather a hard time making requests, but it functioned as one and, for the first time so far, he shook his head instead. This was a conversation he'd been hoping to avoid, and one he knew Selina had been hoping to help him avoid by not putting the picture of his memory up in Cascade Hall. He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of his mouth as he considered his niece for a moment. He also thought hard to be sure that his answer was both honest and correct.
"If I ever had any memories you'd want to see, I have forgotten them," he said, not wanting to entirely discount the possibility that Lorcan had ever been nice to him or ever said anything nice about Bonny. "The best we've gotten along is what you've seen of us together." He watched as Bonabelle scowled, more to herself than at him, and looked down at her lap as she pondered a reply. Before she could speak, Killian continued. "Are there any memories of your dad that you want to share?" he suggested, hoping to at least help the poor girl get something cathartic out of this experience.
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Killian Row
Not about this.
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Bonabelle Row
February 15, 2021 11:29 PM
Yes about this. by Bonabelle Row
Uncle Killian was being non-cooperative and Bonabelle did not appreciate that. Why did all the stupid adults have to go and be so non-cooperative? Why did half her stupid classmates have to be non-cooperative too? What did a girl have to do around here to get some stupid answers to her stupid questions from these stupid people?!She blinked with surprise and looked up at her uncle when he made the suggestion that she share her own memories instead and then shook her head definitely, leaning back in her chair to copy his pose and crossing her arms over her chest.
"I don't have any you'd want to see," she responded in a bitter voice before sighing and dropping both her arms and her airs. "If I ever did, I've forgotten them, too."
There were the times that her father had gotten her ice cream for her birthday, or the times they'd spent the whole day wandering around from book shop to book shop, just looking at all the interesting things, but they were all tinged now. It was as if she were watching her happy memories through soot-stained windows and she couldn't quite wipe off enough of the black smog that stuck to the images to remember what it had felt like to think of her father and feel happy about it. Perhaps she never had.
Her gaze had dropped back to her hands. They weren't very interesting, but they were there and they were her own. There weren't many things in life she was sure weren't going to leave her and she supposed that her hands could get lopped off or something, but she thought it was reasonably safe to think that her hands were going to stick around. Touch wood. In any case, her own hands were easier to look at than her uncle's face for a moment, except that then she couldn't read him and she wanted to know if he would lie to her when she prodded at him. He hadn't, to her knowledge, lied to her so far, but it was hard to tell with adults.
"The memory you left behind," she said, "was it of my father?"
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Bonabelle Row
Yes about this.
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Killian Row
February 15, 2021 11:38 PM
You're not the only one who has a say in this. by Killian Row
The urge to wrap Bonabelle up in a big hug was nearly overwhelming, but Killian restrained himself. He was not, after all, her father. He was not the hug she wanted. He was her okay uncle, which was pretty okay with him, but he couldn't fill the void that so many other people had left. The best he could do was offer some tissues for the journey she still had to make to get through it all."Sometimes, I think it's hard to miss people and be angry at them at the same time," he said quietly. "I'm not sure if that's how you feel about your dad, but sometimes that's how I feel about him and I think that's okay. Sometimes people we love hurt us. That doesn't make it okay that they hurt us, but it is okay to love them."
He had been pretty sure when he'd met his niece that she was a shoo-in for Crotalus. Her drive for readiness and preparation and her burning desire to fit in, clear even from his remote, adult perspective, reminded him of some of the core values of the house under Selina's watchful eye and, in some ways, of the Head of House herself. Now, though, he also recognized that Bonabelle was a good fit for the House she'd made it to. He wasn't entirely sure how well his niece and Grayson Wright got on, but he suspected they had a shared Knaack for detecting the undetectable and piecing together puzzles that were generally unsolvable. Selina could do that too, of course, and it wasn't an exclusively Aladren trait among the students either, but his niece seemed to have found her place there and he was glad for that. He was less glad that she was probing this particular topic as a result.
He sighed again, a little less resignedly this time, and lowered his own hands to his lap, although his gaze didn't follow. "Yes," he said, determined not to lie to her. "It was. But I won't show you," he added, cutting her off when she opened her mouth to say something about it. She promptly snapped it back shut. "And I won't tell you what it was. Why do you want to see it if you know it wasn't good?"
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Killian Row
You're not the only one who has a say in this.
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Bonabelle Row
February 15, 2021 11:47 PM
I don't have a say in anything. by Bonabelle Row
Bonabelle was absolutely not going to cry. She wasn't. She refused to cry. She refused to even think about it. But maybe if she hadn't been thinking so hard about not thinking about it, she would've had more energy and been able to stop the little tear that slipped out despite her efforts, or the little sniffle that betrayed the fact that it wasn't just dust or something in her eye. She wiped her face a bit angrily and muttered a thank-you under her breath when her uncle retrieved a box of tissues for her."He didn't just leave me," she finally said, giving in to a thought she'd been holding in the back of her head for a very long time. "He left you and he left grandma and grandpa and he left everything. I thought maybe it was me and I was why . . . I want to know that that's not true. I want it to be your fault." Her voice rose angrily and with no small hint of accusation before she settled back down. "But I don't think I'm going to find out that it's your fault either," she admitted in a whimper, more tears leaking out. She closed her eyes against them but it did little to help, nor did the way she clasped her hands together in her lap or the way she forced herself to breathe normally. Like anything was 'normal' anyway. "I think it's his fault. I just want a dad again," she said before letting go into a proper sob. She hated that she couldn't even say that she wanted her dad back, just that she wanted a dad, because it wasn't as if she'd ever really had one anyway. Just another stupid adult.
For his part, her uncle was much less stupid than some of the other adults she'd met. He came around the desk and knelt beside her, one arm on the back of her chair, the other hand on the arm of it, and just sat. He didn't try to touch her or to comfort her or to shush her the way grandma would have, he didn't try to talk her out of crying the way grandpa would have, and he didn't try to ignore it the way her dad would have. He just sat, present, the way no one else would have, until Bonabelle finally was ready to hug him herself.
"I love you," he murmured quietly into her hair as he wrapped her in a hug, and she thought that maybe he was crying too. "I'm so sorry you're hurting."
Bonabelle sobbed harder and hugged harder and felt all her feelings harder. "I love you too," she said. It was the first time she'd ever said that to anyone.
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Bonabelle Row
I don't have a say in anything.
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