smallkindnesses: (A place in the sun)
smallkindnesses ([personal profile] smallkindnesses) wrote in [community profile] memepatheias 2019-08-01 03:25 am (UTC)

There's entirely too much hair, here... And then he says that--as if he doesn't even know her! She pulls back enough to look at him, her hands moving to settle on his shoulders in turn. Puzzlement seeps in to wrestle with her elation.

"What a thing to say!" she chides, softly teasing. "Of course I'm a Rainsworth!"

But now she's taking him in, noticing the differences. A delicate hand reaches up, tugging at one of the purple-streaked strands of his hair. A fond and familiar sort of gesture, as if she'd done it a thousand times, even if the color was strange.

"... Break, what's going on? Don't you know me?"

But that girl had called him...

Her head tilts slightly, and he'll be able to see the gears of her mind kicking into overdrive. She'd called him Kevin. Was this place like the Abyss? Had she come out in some other time...?

"You... don't know me," she murmurs, in answer to her own question. "... yet."

Something in her heart shudders... just a little. All those days, years they'd come to know each other. Hard days, and wonderful days. Afternoons under the shade tree, with his head pillowed on her lap. Sleep was a healer, and she'd spent so many hours, just making sure he was comfortable enough to rest like that. Sharon insisting on teaching him how to make daisy chains. Grudging games of dress-up, and then increasingly less-grudging ones. That first time she'd seen him smile. Eventually, nights... All of those beloved memories. They are only her memories, now.

Some of this may seep through the amulet to him. Her emotions are too strong not to leak out, somewhat, making the air shimmer around her like an uncertain reflection in water. Of course I'm a Rainsworth, part of her wants to shout. I'm YOUR Rainsworth!

Instead of saying any of it, though, she takes in a deep breath, schools her expression into a warm smile. Taking a step back, she straightens the voluminous skirts of her dress, folding her hands before her. It's not his fault, after all, if he doesn't know her. It's no one's fault. She is, indeed, a Rainsworth, and she will handle this with the grace a Rainsworth should.

"Then, I should introduce myself," she says cheerfully. "I'm Lady Shelly." She watches him, cautious, a little hopeful despite herself. After all, he'd known enough to recognize the trademarks of her family, if not her. "Does that name... mean anything to you..?"

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