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"... Speak."

{ video { voicemail { text { action }

Mm-hm. For a really long time, it feels like.

[ Not actually an exaggeration. ]

Why was that, Mary?

[Perhaps the timidness is a giveaway of a long time alone, but nevertheless.]

[ Why? That's a complicated question to answer, so Mary takes a moment to think about how to make it simple, running her fingers along the book spines as she walks. ]

... I lost my mother. After that, there was no one else.

...I see.

[Arles's voice is coloured with regret-- and sympathy. He always had his pack so he's never been alone, but other than Rath, there is no more of his family left.] I'm sorry.

I read all the books I used to read with her, though-- over and over. [ Why she's saying this, even Mary isn't sure. To keep the grief from rising up again, maybe. ] But I was never as good with the voices.

[Arles listens, his head slightly inclined, his expression serious and somewhat sad. A hand shifts where it hangs by his side.]

Is that how you remember her, Mary? [Read the same books, over and over... The thought grieves him, the picture of it.]

Edited 2015-11-24 00:46 (UTC)

And I try to remember what her voice sounded like. It was always just easier when I'd read over the same words she'd read to me.

[ It wasn't the same, but it had been faint comfort at the time. ]

[Arles's breath out is nearly silent. He gazes at Mary for a long moment.]

I understand. Reading is important to you because of her, isn't it?

Yeah. [ Plainly, but soft. ] It's my strongest memory of her.

That is good.

[Arles's voice is gentle and he moves to place his palm lightly atop her head.] It is important to keep the ones who were important to you close to your heart, even if it might be painful sometimes.