[Closed] A Little Bird Told Me (Chrysanthe)

[Sebastian Morgenstern]

Loshis 29, 2710

Deventry, midday.

Baz watched as she went through a series of emotions. There was incredulity, and anger, and sadness, and all of it flashed in her field in a dizzying display he could feel in the pit of his stomach. He should have lied to her, he thought, he shouldn’t have told her. Let her think he didn’t know. That would have been better. Then his heart dropped into his shoes as Chrysanthe began to cry. For the second time that day, and the third time since he’d known her. Two of those times, now, were because of him. He hastily began rooting through his pockets for a handkerchief.

“I’m sorry— I don’t— I didn’t,” he stammered, trying to form a coherent sentence as he fumbled through his pockets, ralizing only too late that he had already given her his handkerchief that morning, and hadn’t thought to get another one while they were at the house.

She said she ought to be mad at him. He would have accepted that. It was understandable. He’d kept a secret from her that deeply affected their friendship. Then she shouted. Not at him, or even about him. I hate crying, she said. I hate it!

The statement was so sudden and unexpected that it jarred him back from the panic that had started to creep in on him. He could feel his own eyes pricking now. He did his best to fight it. It wouldn’t make anything better, and in fact would likely make things worse.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to— to make you cry again. I just… I didn’t want to lie to you, Chrys, I...”

He was fighting a losing battle. “I wanted to mention it,” he said, “I’ve known for so long, but I didn’t know how to bring it up. You always seem so happy when we spend time together, I didn’t want to ruin that for you by… by talking about your parents.”

A single tear escaped and slid down his cheek, and he quickly wiped it away with his sleeve, hoping that she hadn’t noticed, and that it would be the only one. “It didn’t seem right,” he said softly.

[Chrysanthe Palmifer]

Midday, 29 Loshis, 2710
Deventry

To make you cry again, Baz said. Chrysanthe’s nostrils flared and she wanted to shout that he hadn’t really made her cry this time or last time, and also how dare he make her cry. She was worried that if she opened her mouth, again, or moved at all, she should begin to cry properly. So far it was only a few tears, no matter how she hated them.

For a moment she hated him too. How dare he bring up - that she had cried at all. It was desperately unfair to be mad at him so but the world was desperately unfair and Chrysanthe didn’t know what to make of any of it.

Baz was apologizing for telling her or else not telling her or maybe both. Chrysanthe didn’t know which. She thought maybe mostly for not telling her; she rubbed her eyes again, tilting her head back down to look at him. Her eyes were red all around again, but she wasn’t really crying, not properly.

Baz was. Well - not properly, but Chrysanthe saw it when a little tear slid down his cheek, even though he tried to wipe it away quickly.

Well you should have, Chrysanthe wanted to say, followed swiftly by saying that she ought never to have told him anyway - she hadn’t even meant to, it had just come out. She scrubbed her face against her wet sleeve.

It’s fine, Chrysanthe wanted to say. I don’t miss them; I scarcely knew them. Maybe I loved them but I didn’t like them and I don’t particularly think they liked me -

There were more tears now. “Chimes,” Chrysanthe huffed again, breathless. She took a deep breath, looking at Baz and his worried freckled face. A few more tears slid down her cheeks.

Chrysanthe wanted to say everything and she wanted to say nothing at all. Her shoulders hunched a little, and she buried her face in her palms again. She took a deep breath, and then another, steady, and then her voice hitched and broke, and she found she was stifling something like a sob, and that only made her angrier.

“I didn’t -“ Chrysanthe’s chest was heaving; she wiped her eyes again and looked at Baz. “I don’t know if I‘m sad,” Chrysanthe said. Her voice was tight and aching. “I don’t think they liked me - maybe they loved me, I don’t know - and I’m so angry with them for dying,” she shook harder.

Chrysanthe looked away, then; there were tears streaming steadily down both cheeks. She scrubbed at her eyes with her palms and then gave up, dropping them to her sides. There was one little sob, and then another, and Chrysanthe made no effort to fight them off, just crying now.

[Sebastian Morgenstern]

Loshis 29, 2710

Deventry, midday.

Chrysanthe was properly sobbing now. Baz hesitated, unsure of what to do for her at this point. He felt useless, just standing there in front of her as she wept. He didn’t have a handkerchief to offer, he didn’t know what to say. He thought of what he would do if it were one of his sisters crying. She wasn't really like either of them, of course, but if it had been, he supposed he knew what he would do next. He closed the gap between them and gently pulled her into a hug. He was thankful for her sake that they were still on one of the quieter residential streets. He was sure that she wouldn't want any extra attention.

He let her cry into his shoulder as long as she needed. His arms were around her tightly enough that she could feel it, but he would let her go if she were to try and pull away. He didn't say anything, though there was some quiet sniffling from his direction. He just stood there with her, similar to how he had sat with her that morning when he found her in her room. He could feel the patch of wetness growing at his collar, but he didn’t care. Shirts and coats could be washed. When her sobs began to quiet, he finally spoke.

"I can't say I understand how it feels," he said softly, his voice mostly even, "I can't even begin to imagine what it would be like to lose everything like that. I think I can understand why you'd be angry, though. I don't know how your parents felt, I don't think anyone did except them. Maybe they cared, maybe they didn't… I can't say. But I can tell you for certain that I care about you.

He pulled away slightly to look down at her. "I don't know if that helps," he continued, "but I do know that I'll be here for you whenever you need me, and that's a promise."