( bee has half a mind to remind sanji she isn't a little baby anymore, but she bites her tongue and tucks into him instead, toeing off her shoes on the opposite side of the bench. why? well, bee has been starved of affection long enough to know there's nothing more fleeting than the presence of someone in your life. she knows what's going to come out of sanji — something small and vulnerable and innocent, waiting to be loved. she knows sanji too. that the call to love something willing and needy is too great to overlook. bee knows it's a nasty, evil thing inside her that makes her hate something that might take sanji away from her, much as she knows she can't very well insist a parent abandon their young just because hers had. the reality of it is, she has no real staked claim on sanji. she has a father — has three, even. sanji is allowed to make his own family, and he's allowed to love them more.
the cuddle is, then, a marker of inevitability. like the world works in cycles, so do people — people always leave her, and so it is probably the last time. bee will treasure it. )
Mm.
( tiny hands lay over sanji's, head thumped back on his chest. she tries to tilt her head back far enough to look at him, but the angle isn't right, so she looks down at his ringed fingers instead, twisting one of them about his knuckle. )
I was born to Withywoods Manor, the place of my youth. It is an old, old castle — much of it I had never seen, as it was closed off, without use. Anyway, once my Da showed me a secret passage in his study, like a den for a bear cub. He gave it to me, to make my own, to watch him while he worked in solitude. It was the best gift I have ever been given. ( she turns her lips up awkwardly in a smile. ) After Ma died, I do believe my father struggled with me. He did not know what he was meant to do, I think, and neglected me for awhile. But when he realized his mistake, he took it upon himself to treat me like a little princess! Ma never would have spoiled me so. We went to market in Oaksbywater for Winterfest, and he bought me all manner of things I never asked for — hot chestnuts and a new saddle for my horse, Prissy, with little bees carved on the flaps, and a leather belt and a bracelet and a cake. He even let me buy gifts for my lady's maid, Careful, and our steward, Revel. Best of all was the seashell seller, as I had never been to the sea before, nor seen something so beautiful. That was the best day I have ever had, truly.
( not because of the gifts, really, but because she was rich with her father's sometimes wayward and unfocused affection. at least — until he left her. fumbling, she reaches into the pocket of her overalls at the center of her chest, and pulls out a handkerchief (this time embroidered with a fox) tied at the crosswise corners, a bounty sitting in the pouch it made. she sets it on the table in front of them, before sinking back into sanji's hug. )
You have probably seen a lot of seashells. I did not consider that. Shanks helped me find them — I was not sure what you would like for your birthday. ( quietly, ) Are all your memories of your father awful?
no subject
the cuddle is, then, a marker of inevitability. like the world works in cycles, so do people — people always leave her, and so it is probably the last time. bee will treasure it. )
Mm.
( tiny hands lay over sanji's, head thumped back on his chest. she tries to tilt her head back far enough to look at him, but the angle isn't right, so she looks down at his ringed fingers instead, twisting one of them about his knuckle. )
I was born to Withywoods Manor, the place of my youth. It is an old, old castle — much of it I had never seen, as it was closed off, without use. Anyway, once my Da showed me a secret passage in his study, like a den for a bear cub. He gave it to me, to make my own, to watch him while he worked in solitude. It was the best gift I have ever been given. ( she turns her lips up awkwardly in a smile. ) After Ma died, I do believe my father struggled with me. He did not know what he was meant to do, I think, and neglected me for awhile. But when he realized his mistake, he took it upon himself to treat me like a little princess! Ma never would have spoiled me so. We went to market in Oaksbywater for Winterfest, and he bought me all manner of things I never asked for — hot chestnuts and a new saddle for my horse, Prissy, with little bees carved on the flaps, and a leather belt and a bracelet and a cake. He even let me buy gifts for my lady's maid, Careful, and our steward, Revel. Best of all was the seashell seller, as I had never been to the sea before, nor seen something so beautiful. That was the best day I have ever had, truly.
( not because of the gifts, really, but because she was rich with her father's sometimes wayward and unfocused affection. at least — until he left her. fumbling, she reaches into the pocket of her overalls at the center of her chest, and pulls out a handkerchief (this time embroidered with a fox) tied at the crosswise corners, a bounty sitting in the pouch it made. she sets it on the table in front of them, before sinking back into sanji's hug. )
You have probably seen a lot of seashells. I did not consider that. Shanks helped me find them — I was not sure what you would like for your birthday. ( quietly, ) Are all your memories of your father awful?