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“Do you love her?”
Aelwyn didn’t need Adaine to answer. She knew.
She’d known for a while; she’d known from the way her sister’s eyes flicked from a film or her books to steal the briefest of glances across the room.
She knew it from the smile which didn’t quite match the expression in her eyes when she listened to her friend, grinning madly, pontificate at great length about her date.
She supposed it was odd: Adaine was closer with her friends, had gone through so much with them, opened up to them, allowed herself to be vulnerable with them in the way that had been so discouraged through their childhood, surely they should recognise her sister’s blatant infatuation.
But, perhaps, it was because she was usually so open with them that they couldn’t see the obvious, they had no experience trying to read Adaine’s immutable mask.
Aelwyn had long ago learned which smiles were forced, which laughs were put on, she could see how her sister’s hand deliberately didn’t tense, like it was an active struggle to not dig her nails into her palm.
She had never expected to see this facade thrown up amongst people Adaine was normally so safe around.
Of course, it didn’t take her long to put the clues together; it wasn’t as if, in giving up evil, she’d given up her intellect.
But she understood.
She knew Adaine, knew that she would never admit or acknowledge her feelings if it hurt someone else.
She knew asking that question would hurt her.
But she was hurting already.
When she did ask, she already knew the answer. She knew it would hurt Adaine, she knew she had to ask anyway.
Adaine took a second to respond, like she hadn’t registered her sister’s question.
Then, a moment later, she snapped her gaze from the sea she’d been staring at longingly as, at the bottom of the sloping dune they were sitting on, Fig and Ayda were laughing wildly as they splashed each other, the light of the setting sun and Ayda’s fire illuminated the pair and the water around them, like a spotlight.
Adaine met Aelwyn’s searching gaze, face going pale, eyes wide as her mouth opened wordlessly.
“Wh-who?” she managed to almost choke out, Aelwyn just gave her a sad smile, gesturing with a nod to the water.
“Of course I do, I- it’s Fig, she’s my friend,”
“That’s not what I meant, little sister,”
Adaine’s face flushed and her eyes looked terrified.
“I’m the only one who knows, Adaine,”
“I-” Adaine looked away, pulling her legs up to her chest, arms wrapping around them protectively.
Gently, slowly enough that Adaine could pull away if she wanted to, Aelwyn laid a hand on hers.
“It’s ok, you don’t have to answer.”
In a voice so small that Aelwyn was, for a second, back in their childhood home, cowering before their parents.
“Yes,” Adaine’s tone was close to being heartbroken, but her face didn’t show it. Again that mask was up, not letting anyone see the pain behind it.
A moment passed, and Aelwyn sat, staring at her sister, horrified by how stoic she was, by how stoic she’d learned to be… by the part she herself had played in forcing such an adaptation.
If someone other than Aelwyn were to see her, then they would see a girl exhausted beyond exhaustion, wiped out by some immense emotional strain; but they’d have no idea about how deep the pain that caused that fatigue truly ran.
A moment passed, and Aelwyn sat, staring at her sister, horrified by how stoic she was, by how stoic she’d learned to be… by the part she herself had played in forcing such an adaptation.
Without words (and honestly what words could be said?) Aelwyn laid an arm around Adaine’s shoulders and gently pulled her into her side, resting her head on hers.
A minute, maybe more passed as the shadows lengthened, before Aelwyn straightened up.
“Do you want to go for a walk?”
Adaine nodded silently, standing up and helping Aelwyn, who winced as she put weight on her leg: the pain had been bad today and Adaine helped her to her chair.
It had taken longer than it should have for Aelwyn to admit that she had mobility issues.
Something else she could thank her parents for, both for the ingrained shame of admitting “weakness”, and for putting her in an orb which had done irreparable damage to her legs, causing the pain itself.
She was glad she’d let herself be convinced by a coalition of Adaine, Jawbone and Lydia Barkrock into actually acknowledging her disability; as much as she’d rarely admit it, she liked going on walks with Adaine, often they wouldn’t talk at all, just enjoy the company of the only other person who’d gone through their childhood, just allowing their frustrations and anger lay between them, unspoken.
Of course this time the frustration wasn’t at their parents, at least not entirely. Aelwyn was still pretty pissed that they had forced Adaine to grow comfortable hiding her emotions so well.
They moved down the beach until they were nearly out of eyesight of the rest of the group and they found a bench, Adaine sitting down and Aelwyn wheeling to the side so she could look out to the gold tinted sea again.
“How long?” Aelwyn knew this would hurt. She knew that it was better to hurt than to ignore.
Adaine sighed and laughed, sadly.
“Since the first day of Freshman year,”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Adaine laughed, this time more genuinely but her expression was still empty, like she had nothing left to give, “You remember, that first day? You told me to steal a book?”
“Ah, the umm,”
“Yeah,”
“I’m um sorry-”
“I forgive you, they would’ve gotten it out in another way eventually,”
“I’m still sorry,”
“I know,”
“But what has that got to do with Fig?”
“She saw me do it, take the book I mean, she came over and said she thought it was really cool… I was freaking the hells out and she tried to make me laugh, it didn’t work… then when Goldenhoard came over she tried to take the blame, that didn’t work either because I was having a full on panic attack. But… It was nice...having someone… care…”
Aelwyn grimaced, guilt and anger filling her equally.
“So, two years?”
“Yeah… But I didn’t realise straight away, It was when… when she disappeared, her and Riz, I was just so scared that… that I’d lost her, and then seeing her again… And then I knew.”
“You never said anything?”
“Well there was a lot going on. And by the end of Spring Break she was with Ayda and I’d never want to mess that up.”
“You’re too selfless sometimes,”
“I should be trying to destroy their relationship?”
“You shouldn’t have spent months hiding how you felt,”
“Fig deserves to be happy,” Adaine shrugged, “I’m happy that she’s happy.”
“You don’t think she’d be happy with you?”
Adaine fell silent for a moment, when she spoke again her voice cracked even though she spoke with a rueful smile.
“She deserves someone not broken.”
“Adaine, you’re not-”
“I am though,” Adaine’s reply wasn’t angry, just tired. Tired and final.
“We both are… she doesn’t deserve that.”
“What about what you deserve?”
“Nothing,”
“What?”
“I deserve nothing, Aelwyn.” Bitterness leaked from her voice like acid.
“Why not?”
Aelwyn raised her eyebrows as Adaine began laughing, madly, uncontrollably.
“Because I'm horrible!”
“You aren’t-”
“Yes! Yes I am!” Adaine snapped suddenly, her voice shaking as the hands resting on the bench clenched into fists.
“I’m a bad person Aelwyn! I get angry when my bestfriends are happy! I’m miserable when I see them together! I avoid them, I close them off because I can’t be around them! I hate that my friend is in a relationship with a great person and part of me hopes that they break up because I’m a selfish asshole!”
“Adai-”
“And even with all that, I still can’t even say that- that I’m in- i can’t say it!”
The anger seemed to dissipate instantly, leaving her sagging on the bench.
“I do, I- I can’t sa- it’s too much, I can’t,” Adaine’s breath grew shallow as tears appeared in the corner of her eyes, the carefully maintained front shattering into a thousand pieces.
Aelwyn’s heart twinged painfully as she pulled her sister into a hug, resting her chin on the top of her head.
She remembered a time, not so long ago, when this, her baby sister’s pain, would bring her nothing but wry amusement and she fought the urge to vomit.
Adaine’s sobs, though muffled by Aelwyn’s shoulder, became louder as she finally allowed herself to feel everything she’d kept in for the past few months, all Aelwyn could do was softly rub her back and stroke her hair.
She felt so powerless, but Adaine needed to feel this.