[ 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.
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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. ]
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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.