Sorrel lets it fade when she does, and doesn't grasp after the trailing edge of what might have been. No point, after all, in clinging to the impossible, or mourning before its time. As if it were that simple.
Silence settles around them like a soft, golden cloak. Dust motes idle in the slow sunlight, and Sorrel breathes through the slight, easy weight of Sina's body over his. Too slight. Too cold.
"Sina?" It's a whisper, impulsive and vulnerable. He hesitates, uncertain of why he's asking, or what he means it to come to, then forges ahead, "Have you ever... I mean, you said me too. Did you ever... with anyone else?"
It hadn't been a question worth asking, when he'd assumed a different reality. Now, though, Sorrel finds himself reevaluating so many things, thinking back and wondering, where the truth is, in memory, and where he'd been blind.
What a strange question to have to answer now, at this point in her life. Somehow it's still important, despite everything else going on. Sina angles her head slightly, though she continues to rest it on Sorrel's chest. "...no," she says, a bit deflated, though her smile remains. "...I kissed Ellana once. But she never felt that way." She blushes at the memory, a social stumble that she would still find agonizing if she didn't have something faster to die of. "Little Fern..." She pauses, thinking. "Perhaps, in another life. One where we had time. Where you and I could... learn everything."
Sorrel isn't sure who that is, can't place a face to a name-- but then, he's been distracted. And to someone so used to a world of Vallaslin, all these unmarked faces seem at once too young and too old; they blend together. He hasn't been paying enough attention.
"Fern," He says again, as if testing out the concept. Sina and Fern. It's nice. But then the rest of him catches up and he has to laugh, "Wait, wait, you kissed Ellana? Oh no. Sina, no, not Ellana."
Though she seems about to defend herself, Sina catches her words mid-sentence and sighs instead with a helpless grin. "She's just... so lovely," she admits in a blushing whisper, "I misunderstood her when..." Burying her face in her hands, Sina realizes she can maybe still die of this. "...she was in love with a human, Felix. My feelings were so strong, I..." Despite her hiding, she can't not find it funny, and though she shakes her head, it's not a sorrowful motion. Lifting her hands away again, she wipes her eyes and winces. "We were never quite the same after that."
"Lovely like a snake," Sorrel scoffs, but he relents, smoothing one palm across Sina's hair, comfortingly, "She never wrote back to the clan, that I heard of. And do you know, she hasn't said a single word to me, since I arrived?"
He sighs. It's a different problem, a worry that gnaws at him in quiet, dark moments when nothing else exists to pull at him; the clan here wasn't just drifting apart, it was falling apart. Nothing ever goes easy, does it?
"You deserve so much more than someone like that. This Fern betr have been kind to you."
Sina looks a bit scandalized by Sorrel's assessment of Ellana, but... in truth, she hasn't heard from her in a while, and doesn't want to waste the energy on an argument. A part of her will always be very fond of Ellana. As long as always lasts, anyway. Sighing through her nose, she settles against Sorrel again, letting her eyes close. "Fern is very kind," she murmurs, "and so sweet, so willing to learn." She knits her brow in a smile that's also sad. "...if ever I had to choose a First for myself..."
Now there it is, the painful crush in his chest, the reminder... Because if ever she were Keeper, if she had to choose a First. Sina would choose Fern. Sorrel doesn't say a word, only holds her a little tighter, silent comfort, because he doesn't trust his voice. He's always saying the wrong thing, charging ahead as if bitterness could make him witty; it won't help. It'll only make Sina feel worse. Worse! As if that were possible.
Of course, it makes sense. If she could choose anyone, Sina would choose someone she could love with the whole of her, instead of...
...Sorrel closes his eyes. Now this truly is the most pathetic he's been. Jealous of something that could never happen, and which if it did would be a wonderful blessing.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, eventually. Maybe he's sorry for badmouthing Ellana, or for seeming to disapprove of Fern, or some other silent sin. Who can say? "I'm sure she'd have made a good one."
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no subject
Silence settles around them like a soft, golden cloak. Dust motes idle in the slow sunlight, and Sorrel breathes through the slight, easy weight of Sina's body over his. Too slight. Too cold.
"Sina?" It's a whisper, impulsive and vulnerable. He hesitates, uncertain of why he's asking, or what he means it to come to, then forges ahead, "Have you ever... I mean, you said me too. Did you ever... with anyone else?"
It hadn't been a question worth asking, when he'd assumed a different reality. Now, though, Sorrel finds himself reevaluating so many things, thinking back and wondering, where the truth is, in memory, and where he'd been blind.
no subject
"...no," she says, a bit deflated, though her smile remains. "...I kissed Ellana once. But she never felt that way." She blushes at the memory, a social stumble that she would still find agonizing if she didn't have something faster to die of. "Little Fern..." She pauses, thinking. "Perhaps, in another life. One where we had time. Where you and I could... learn everything."
no subject
Sorrel isn't sure who that is, can't place a face to a name-- but then, he's been distracted. And to someone so used to a world of Vallaslin, all these unmarked faces seem at once too young and too old; they blend together. He hasn't been paying enough attention.
"Fern," He says again, as if testing out the concept. Sina and Fern. It's nice. But then the rest of him catches up and he has to laugh, "Wait, wait, you kissed Ellana? Oh no. Sina, no, not Ellana."
no subject
Lifting her hands away again, she wipes her eyes and winces. "We were never quite the same after that."
no subject
He sighs. It's a different problem, a worry that gnaws at him in quiet, dark moments when nothing else exists to pull at him; the clan here wasn't just drifting apart, it was falling apart. Nothing ever goes easy, does it?
"You deserve so much more than someone like that. This Fern betr have been kind to you."
Or... something.
Or else.
no subject
Sighing through her nose, she settles against Sorrel again, letting her eyes close. "Fern is very kind," she murmurs, "and so sweet, so willing to learn." She knits her brow in a smile that's also sad. "...if ever I had to choose a First for myself..."
no subject
Now there it is, the painful crush in his chest, the reminder... Because if ever she were Keeper, if she had to choose a First. Sina would choose Fern. Sorrel doesn't say a word, only holds her a little tighter, silent comfort, because he doesn't trust his voice. He's always saying the wrong thing, charging ahead as if bitterness could make him witty; it won't help. It'll only make Sina feel worse. Worse! As if that were possible.
Of course, it makes sense. If she could choose anyone, Sina would choose someone she could love with the whole of her, instead of...
...Sorrel closes his eyes. Now this truly is the most pathetic he's been. Jealous of something that could never happen, and which if it did would be a wonderful blessing.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, eventually. Maybe he's sorry for badmouthing Ellana, or for seeming to disapprove of Fern, or some other silent sin. Who can say? "I'm sure she'd have made a good one."