[ But this place just made things complicated, didn't it? Carver keeps his eyes closed, trailing his fingers along Larus's spine. Idle touches, slow and steady. ]
I know you would. She doesn't stand for bullshit, but she puts up with me. So, I think she'd like you.
[ He isn't sure why he'd thought doing something like this would have been a good idea, but he sinks into it, holding Carver close. ]
She's your sister. [ Like that explains everything. ] I think – Sofie would like you too. [ There's a quiet exhale, an attempt at pulling himself together after saying her name. ] My parents wouldn't, but I would like you even more because of it.
[ He'd never fit into that world carved out by his family's money, and right here, like this, he feels more at home than he ever has. ]
Yeah, [ Carver agrees softly. ] She’s my sister.
[ Not biologically, but certainly by blood at this point. They’ve fought wars together, they held the line, saw God in the brutality. And Matthew—
He was Leah’s kid, but Carver loved him, helped raise him, and that mattered. They did they together, him and Leah and all the others. They were family in all the ways that could matter. And if she came here, he thinks she and Larus would understand each other.
He sighs, and keeps running his fingers along the lines of Larus’s back. ]
[ It's treading a line he isn't entirely comfortable discussing, but if anyone would understand, it's Carver. Maybe. The way they'd grown up had been different, though not so different as to make them incompatible. Larus would have found that interesting if he'd thought about it long enough, and yet, all he does is press a kiss to the side of Carver's head as he thinks about them. His parents. ]
There's nothing to talk about, [ he says eventually, picturing them as he'd left them that day before he'd died. ] My father wanted me to be like him once my mother realized she couldn't bend me to be her perfect child. She had Sofie for that. [ His beautiful sister, naive in the ways he had been when he'd trusted Sun. ] I never wanted any of that, but maybe I'm more like them than I thought.
[ A monster, something uncaring at the best of times and cruel at the worst. That's the kind of man his father had been, especially after brokering a deal with The Factory. It's a sobering thought, squeezing his eyes shut in an effort to ignore it. ]
[ Carver sits with that for a moment, shifting so he can press a little closer to Larus. These moments always hit him hard. The quiet intimacy, the part where they don’t hurt each other even though they could. ]
I don’t know if I’m like my father, [ he says finally. ] Never knew him. And I didn’t know my mom that well but I think I’m like her.
[ Same iron determination, same viciousness. He didn’t know her but she made him. He supposes most people know their parents, but he never really did. ]
But I don’t think that’s who you are. Not with me, anyway.
no subject
[ But this place just made things complicated, didn't it? Carver keeps his eyes closed, trailing his fingers along Larus's spine. Idle touches, slow and steady. ]
I know you would. She doesn't stand for bullshit, but she puts up with me. So, I think she'd like you.
no subject
She's your sister. [ Like that explains everything. ] I think – Sofie would like you too. [ There's a quiet exhale, an attempt at pulling himself together after saying her name. ] My parents wouldn't, but I would like you even more because of it.
[ He'd never fit into that world carved out by his family's money, and right here, like this, he feels more at home than he ever has. ]
no subject
[ Not biologically, but certainly by blood at this point. They’ve fought wars together, they held the line, saw God in the brutality. And Matthew—
He was Leah’s kid, but Carver loved him, helped raise him, and that mattered. They did they together, him and Leah and all the others. They were family in all the ways that could matter. And if she came here, he thinks she and Larus would understand each other.
He sighs, and keeps running his fingers along the lines of Larus’s back. ]
You don’t talk about your parents much.
no subject
There's nothing to talk about, [ he says eventually, picturing them as he'd left them that day before he'd died. ] My father wanted me to be like him once my mother realized she couldn't bend me to be her perfect child. She had Sofie for that. [ His beautiful sister, naive in the ways he had been when he'd trusted Sun. ] I never wanted any of that, but maybe I'm more like them than I thought.
[ A monster, something uncaring at the best of times and cruel at the worst. That's the kind of man his father had been, especially after brokering a deal with The Factory. It's a sobering thought, squeezing his eyes shut in an effort to ignore it. ]
no subject
I don’t know if I’m like my father, [ he says finally. ] Never knew him. And I didn’t know my mom that well but I think I’m like her.
[ Same iron determination, same viciousness. He didn’t know her but she made him. He supposes most people know their parents, but he never really did. ]
But I don’t think that’s who you are. Not with me, anyway.