𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬. 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞.
when she was younger, scarlet used to swear that there was an invisible string tying her to her siblings. at least, there was an invisible string tying her to sabine and silas. if twin telepathy was a thing, the triplets must have had that times one hundred. she never felt the same bond with @sloanegraves . she always felt one step removed from her youngest sibling. by the time sloane was born, their parents were already having problems, and scarlet, being the oldest by mere minutes, was promoted from big sister to young mother, taking care of all three of her siblings because she realized that if she didn't, no one ever would. sloane fell victim to their parents sins, falling somewhere between scarlet's sibling and her child. there were times when she looked at the bond between her own daughter and her younger sister and thought they were more like sisters than scarlet and sloane would ever be.
whenever silas or sabine walked into the room, a sixth sense pulled scarlet's attention in their direction. that phenomenon had never occurred when sloane walked in. she didn't know how long her sister had been standing there and seeing her out of the corner of her eye startled her. with a hand splayed over her chest and the other gripping the bedpost, she turned to face the youngest graves sibling. "you gave me a fright," she informed, catching her breath before she let go of the bedpost and went back to the task at hand. "laundry's done," she changed the subject, folding one of sloane's pajama sets. she didn't even realize what she was doing until she got another look at her sister. she set the folded clothes down on the bed. "is that weird? that's weird. i'm sorry. old habits die hard, i guess."
sloane loathes this feeling: the vast expanse between herself and her siblings–– well. mostly between herself and her sisters. how and why silas had managed to bridge the gap, even a little, sloane has never quite understood. even their relationship is far from perfect, but things with scarlet and sabine are just... a little more strained. sloane still feels ashamed of it, like it makes her some kind of misogynist. but the simple fact is things happen how they happen and this particular facet of her life simply... is. scarlet isn't her mother, but she doesn't exactly feel like sloane's sister, either. something has always lived between them, whether it be the imbalance of authority or an alienation born from resentment on both sides–– scarlet's for being forced to raise her baby sister, and sloane's for feeling cosmically, immutably excluded from the bond the triplets share. despite all this, though, sloane loves her siblings, even amid that sense of isolation.
still, sometimes they feel like strangers. no longer are sloane's older siblings the giants they had once seemed in her childhood–– the infallible, permanent fixtures in her life she'd always imagined them to be. she can see them now, as they really are–– and probably always have been. they are broken just like she is, though the cracks in their facades take different shapes than the ones in hers.
it's strange to be back in the house again. sloane feels like she doesn't fit quite right in it anymore. but she sees scarlet folding laundry and can't help but stop in the doorway. something familiar and bittersweet blooms in her chest. she longs for her childhood back, but she also aches for what might have been if things were different. would she be able to look at scarlet without feeling two feet tall? might they have been confidants?
she startles when scarlet does, not expecting that sharp intake of breath, that chill of fear that runs through her sister at her presence. she knows that it doesn't mean anything, that she has simply caught scarlet by surprise, but it manages to sting anyway. "sorry," sloane says, feeling a little bit like she used to when scar caught her sneaking back in after a party in high school.
"oh," she says when she realizes it's her things in her sister's hands. "no, no. it's, um–– it's nice." finally, she steps over the threshold, brows furrowed. "yeah, god, it's..." sloane wraps her arms around her middle not feeling cold, but exposed. "it's almost like we never left this place."
