❛ well, i’m glad. ❜
it’s an awful thing, seeing her so miserable. he’d take it from her , if he could — reach into her heart and strip away the melancholy, scrape such misery from her soul. even he hadn’t been so sad at her age.
gabriel stiffens, slightly, as he reaches for the mugs in the upper cabinet, pausing before he places them on the bench. there’s a soft exhale, his head dipping, to place tea bags in either mug. he takes a long time to turn around, too long to answer a question she’d probably meant half - jokingly.
there’s a sad smile, but not without warmth.
❛ second favourite, maybe. ❜
❛ ...Dad? ❜
She doesn’t like that smile. Doesn’t like THOSE SMILES that make him look like he’s been thinking of those sad, those dark things that infect his memory. PRISCILLA DOESN’T WANT TO THINK OF GABRIEL HAVING A LIFE BEFORE HER. She didn’t want to believe that ALL OF HIS MISERY came from somewhere.
That was selfish, in and of itself.
She hears those words without really hearing them, in the process of opening the box of bagels to show her elder. Brow furrows, and the notion hits her —- he had never mentioned anything about children. But she had never asked.
Her stomach coils.
❛ Didn’t know you had a daughter. What’s her name? ❜












