“That’s more than okay,” Sciel says. She wouldn’t want Maelle to ever be anyone other than Maelle. “And he is! And he doesn’t complain when I cry and get snot all over him. I’ll try not to do the same on you, though.”
Sciel hums her agreement, thumb running back and forth across Maelle’s back. Ruminating on what makes a family feels tough in this moment, enough to turn her stomach, but if she is to have one, she’s glad it’s this lot.
“You are very, very selfless,” Sciel assures her. “Still, I’ll try, since you’ve made an exception.”
"You're very selfless, too. I hope you know that."
She settles back in for a hug, sneaking her arms around Sciel's middle again. It feels like the most she can offer, lacking the wisdom and kind words Gustave would surely have.
“I should hope so, I put in a lot of practice on that,” she says, which is all the humour she can muster right now. She takes Maelle back into her arms, glad to have someone to hold onto when her heart hurts so badly. “I wasn’t, always.”
"That's hard to imagine. I've heard plenty of stories about Gustave when he was my age," she says, tipping her head up to Sciel for this story time she hopes to distract her with. "What were you like?"
Mm. There’s a flicker of humour there, a sympathetic hum –– she loves that little-girl version of herself still, and carries her with her.
“I was anxious all the time,” she says. “I felt like I never knew how to turn my mind off of worrying, and I didn’t know how to sit quietly or think before I spoke, either, so I was always being reckless with others’ feelings.”
If that's not familiar. Maelle feels like all she does lately is worry, mostly about Gustave, thinking he'll disappear when she's not looking or Renoir will do something or any other number of terrible things. It's so difficult to be away from him. It hurts.
“I do worry,” she says. Probably far less than she probably should, but she hasn’t overcorrected, either. Mostly. “I just know how to soothe myself now, so it doesn’t make me spiral or panic or act out.”
"What's that like?" Maelle jokes, squeezing her. A dry joke. Sciel is admirable. One day, maybe Maelle will have her head better on her shoulders, or at least not feel like she's constantly drowning in worry.
“So peaceful,” she says, and guessing what Maelle is angling at: “You’ll get there someday. I’m sure you can already see the difference between yourself now and when you were a little girl.”
"Thanks to Gustave," she's quick to supply. "And likely more thanks to Gustave, moving forward. I don't think I'd see a positive difference if not for him."
"Most of the credit. I did some of it, definitely." Gustave and his patience. Maelle, as far as she's concerned, simply lucked out with someone who didn't get easily overwhelmed by her oddities.
“Oh, you’re all my favourites for different reasons.” She exhales comfortably, leaning her cheek into the wild tangle of Maelle’s bangs. The longer she sits, the more worn down she feels. “You’re my favourite for cuddling.”
"She and I are a contradiction," she murmurs. "We are so different in so many ways... but so perfectly that we can move together without even thinking. Like two people in a mirror."
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“It was the very least I could do, given all the times Gustave sat with me after I lost Pierre and our baby,” she says, softly.
Maelle is his baby, after all.
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"Gustave is excellent at sitting. I squirm. I hope that's okay."
She gives her a small smile, teasing.
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They're real family, aren't they? As real as they can possibly be without being blood. Sciel and Lune are just missing the paperwork.
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“You are very, very selfless,” Sciel assures her. “Still, I’ll try, since you’ve made an exception.”
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She settles back in for a hug, sneaking her arms around Sciel's middle again. It feels like the most she can offer, lacking the wisdom and kind words Gustave would surely have.
"You always look out for everyone."
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“I was anxious all the time,” she says. “I felt like I never knew how to turn my mind off of worrying, and I didn’t know how to sit quietly or think before I spoke, either, so I was always being reckless with others’ feelings.”
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"Now it's like you don't worry at all."
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“Don’t give him all the credit. You did plenty.”
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Sober cuddling, anyway, but that’s different.
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"I'll take it," she says after her deliberation. "What's Lune your favorite for?"
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"She and I are a contradiction," she murmurs. "We are so different in so many ways... but so perfectly that we can move together without even thinking. Like two people in a mirror."
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When she thinks about it, Gustave feels like the perfect balance of Sciel's optimism and Lune's smarts.
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"Gustave is my favourite to get drunk with," she says. "And for the most painful conversations that still manage to end with both of us smiling."
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