He stayed quiet a moment watching her. He never cared to really clean beyond the basics he does to the room itself, watching her scrub at the floor with the towels he felt bad, more than just physical but just bad all together.
"My mom was really sick when I was home, I never remember a time where she wasn't sick or weak. She always smiled though. Little bothered her, but Ylfa, she was fire in a human body. She had opinions and strength none could match. I adored her when I was a child... we fought constantly, but I loved her Jo. I dream of returning to her and Mother so often... and in those dreams I always see them die." He admitted shifting as a sharp pain shot through him he kept himself from puking and that much was clear He pulled the cover higher so just his hair was sticking out.
"Mother wanted more children...." He muttered through his pain. "I almost killed her when I was born, she could never bare children again after me... My point." He started, as that scarred arm shot out for the silver bowl. "I think of you like I think of her... your not Ylfa, you never could be, your more." He was glad he had pulled the cover up. He didn't want her seeing his face... but the noises that followed, the sound of it hitting the bowl. Least he was right that he could aim.
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Date: 2016-12-03 05:13 am (UTC)"My mom was really sick when I was home, I never remember a time where she wasn't sick or weak. She always smiled though. Little bothered her, but Ylfa, she was fire in a human body. She had opinions and strength none could match. I adored her when I was a child... we fought constantly, but I loved her Jo. I dream of returning to her and Mother so often... and in those dreams I always see them die." He admitted shifting as a sharp pain shot through him he kept himself from puking and that much was clear He pulled the cover higher so just his hair was sticking out.
"Mother wanted more children...." He muttered through his pain. "I almost killed her when I was born, she could never bare children again after me... My point." He started, as that scarred arm shot out for the silver bowl. "I think of you like I think of her... your not Ylfa, you never could be, your more." He was glad he had pulled the cover up. He didn't want her seeing his face... but the noises that followed, the sound of it hitting the bowl. Least he was right that he could aim.