"maybe it's time for us to have another talk." from wamuu, to minerva..
those words were terrifying on their own, but coming from her father?
oh god, no.
it shrunk her, from an already-diminished girl, to someone who’s barely-there. maybe if her back pressed flat enough against the wall, she could phase through, giving her a place to contemplate whatever would come next without the frightening component of being witnessed. and this wasn’t a trust issue, she loved and adored her father — but any disappointment expressed, the slight hint at it, even, was her personal nightmare.
“ w.. why? ”
is a rewording necessary? must she elaborate on her questioning? it wasn’t intended to challenge his authority, not at all; she’s merely… confused. the worst state to be in. her mind begins to race, contemplating each potential fault, every exhausting flaw in her behavior, her character, her fundamental being. was this because of that shocking incident from months ago, where those cruel boys had a lesser-than-stellar outcome? had her falling asleep in the barn become a problem? … did he notice her occasionally staring at some of the girls passing by?
she couldn’t really look at him. typical breathing techniques kept her on the very edge of calm.
“ did i do something wrong? ”
it’s almost a desperate squeak and nothing else. her hands gripped the edge of her azure blouse, stressing its delicate threads. please say no. please say no.
the unknown. + accepting.
