A hand wipes down the tired contours of her face. Ancestors. Did she really have all the time in the world to explain how he is wrong. In a patience-tested tone she grumbles, “Baba- that is my father… not a she. Mama- is a she.” And by all estimates she could understand why her Mama took issue with his flagrant disregard for the health of her family by smoking indoors.
Terms like ‘croak’ did not soothe her fear edged soul. In fact, it put her more on edge. “How can you be sure of this? Have you seen my Baba?” Anxious anticipation pent up in muscular shoulders, causing her stance to draw rigid.
“Connor! Tell me where he is?” Mulan implores as patiently as she could allow herself.
“A’right, a’right! Don’t get yer boxer-briefs in a bunch-”
The cheeky Irishman found no end when it came to ribbing the country’s saviour over her masculine alter-ego, but even he could see that perhaps he owed her some sensitivity in this time of uncertainty with the aging patriarch.
“Aye, so I made a wee bit of a mistake... I’m flu’ent ‘n SEVEN languages, girl, and Chinese jus’ happens to not be one of them.” He rolled his eyes and tapped his cigarette out in the kitchen sink of the Mulan(s?) house.
“Yer da’ was at the shìchǎng, last I seen ‘im. Buyin’ back-choy or summat. I dunno. All the veg’tables look t' same around here,” the dark blonde sniffed. But he didn’t actually mean what he said. “I he’rd a few different people say ‘soup’, so yer old man must be makin’ som’ soup.” Honestly, he couldn’t image what the worry was. Sure, the guy had injuries, but they were ancient.
“Would it make you feel better if I took ye into town so ye c’n see fer yerself? Not dat ye can’t take care’r yerself... And fer der record, I wannit try’na h’rt yer feelin’s...” He walked over to the rack by the door, grabbing his black coat and slipping into it. “I’m truly sorry about earlier, Mulan.” Connor sighed. “Fuckin’ forgive me, please.” MacManus wasn’t very touchy-feely, but occasionally he was moved to want to embrace the brawny oriental chick, for some reason. As a devotee to God, he’d survived by quashing any lust (or just plain innocent crushes) he’d experienced before, and the present situation was no different- Yet it pained him a lot more than any others had.
Still, he didn’t even known if Mulan struck him that way.
Maybe it was all just a matter of sharing a few values- Sticking to a remotely similar code of conduct. Connor preferred thinking of it that way (‘cause he believed himself still too young and able to afford settling down with a lass). Besides that, there was the whole difference of religious viewpoint. And he’d have to marry her in order to feel right about it at all. Would they have to have children, too, then? Baptized? The ol’ Catholic guilt never ended. So’s he just chose to avoid the occasions that should bring it about.
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