Weaver of Shadows
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Edgar smiled, stroking her hair gently.
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“Ok. How to help you stay awake…I’m not sure, maybe Aaron has something that can help?”
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“You could just fall asleep. You probably need it.” He hugged her gently.
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“I guess.” He didn’t seem convinced.
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“I’m fine, just a little shaken up. I think whatever happened to Terrance did something to me too.” He bowed his head. “I should have been stronger though.”
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“Of course, sorry I couldn’t do more.” He squeezed her hand back.
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“She’s right. People have misjudged her just because of who her dad is, I’ve seen it. Your parent doesn’t decide who you are.” @The Aspiring Archivist
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Edgar didn’t move to stop him. If he wanted to leave, so be it.
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He wrapped an arm around her, then leaned his head against her shoulder. “Thank you. You’re amazing.” He smiled a weak but true smile up at her.
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He slowly stopped shaking, and eventually sat up. “Sorry,” he whispered.
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He sank into her embrace, shuddering. “Stay here?” he whispered. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the things he felt.
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He made it to her, then curled up next to her. He didn’t say anything, didn’t look at her. The dread was overpowering, all he could really feel was that he needed to be by her.
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“F…fine.” He crawled away, going towards Jenny.
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“F…fine,” stuttered, shaking slightly.
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Edgar stumbled back and fell to floor, cowering.
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He checked out. “It’s fast. Very fast.”
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“Maybe…has he had any today?” Edgar’s hands started trembling.
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Edgar knelt next to him. “Is something wrong?”
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Edgar waited for an answer. What was it with this guy and not answering ever?
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Edgar stood, walking over to him. “Do you need help? We have some ambrosia.” He hated to use it though, they had a limited supply.
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He waved back. She was smiling again. Good.
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He smiled at her. “You don’t have to worry about that, I know they will. My mom’s been saying…well she thinks it’s about time I ‘introduce her to a girl’. She’ll love you.”
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“I think so.” He smiled, his siblings would definitely like her. But…she wasn’t smiling as widely any more. Was something wrong?
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“I do.” He smiled. “I bet they’d love to meet you sometime. I usually go back a few times a year, like Christmas.”
