Hope and Pretense PV Evelynn Decipio

Lips pressed together, Dealla listened to Evelynn's analysis quietly. It was odd, she'd been carrying this around for two years, so long she had almost forgotten how to talk about it, instead keeping it quiet, holding it in, except for the occasional burst that could not be contained. Like that letter she'd written one night, when she'd asked her parents to let her visit her grandparents, without explanation, without context. Even that had taken her a year.

It had grown in the silence of her chest, with every letter she'd ignored, every present she'd received. With every letter she had written to her parents, deciding not to mention what was happening, until finally it was too big to just blurt out in a sentence. When it had gone from I got a letter the other day to I have been getting letters for the past year and I don't know what to do and Please tell me they're lying and pretending because what if they weren't?

Her fidgeting calmed as she listened, fingers stilling on the railing, some of the unsatisfied tension leaving her shoulders. It had been a good decision to talk about it, she decided. Not just to talk about it, but to tell Evelynn, no matter how arbitrary the choice had been in the beginning. There was a sense of keen intelligence about the girl, cool and calculating, that Dee could appreciate. Emotions, after all, were messy; if you could cut through them to the centre of the issue, was that not the better choice?

Although nothing had been resolved, Dee felt calmer, like an itch that was fading despite not being scratched. Evelynn's words turned her worries to a slightly different angle, the change in lighting changing the picture. Perhaps he believes you have no interest... She bit her lip, but rather than indicating awkwardness or dread, it was thoughtful, contemplative. Hadn't that been exactly what she'd done? While her letters were always addressed to both of them, she had never taken the step to reach out to her father personally, for fear that he would not want the contact. That he truly didn't wish to hear from her for her betrayal. What if, for some inexplicable reason, he felt the same? That she wouldn't want his jokes and drawings?

It didn't help with the biting, pressing fear in her chest, but hearing Evelynn acknowledge it made her feel a little better, anyway. She'd always been strong, rarely admitting weakness, but it had been because she hadn't needed to ask for help. The thought hadn't occurred because it hadn't been necessary. When had that turned into feeling like she couldn't admit she needed it?

She let out a deep breath, closing her eyes then turning to meet Evelynn's gaze. Her expression was steady, earnest. She was still now, the restless energy gone. "What do you think I should do?"

@Evelynn Decipio