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She couldn’t help but compare how he acted to Vander.
She knew Silco would probably hate it should he ever discover that she was doing it, but she couldn’t help herself.
Ever since she had learned about the bloody and bitter past that tied two of her father figures together, she’d found herself almost fixated on the thousands of not quite similarities and differences that lay between the two brothers.
Where Vander had always stumbled over how to talk to her when it came to her Bombs, Silco would praise her ingenuity and offer ideas on how to make them more deadly even if he didn’t know a thing about how to go about doing it.
Where Vander was soft words wrapped in warmth and a desire to understand, Silco was sharp remarks that cut even when they were not intended to cause harm and a desire to control.
Where Vanders hugs were soft and in constant supply, Silco’s were rare and always meant that she’d done something truly impressive, deserving of a reward. He didn’t like physical intimacy that much, not like Vander had. But that was okay.
She didn’t need another Vander.
She didn’t.
No matter how much she grieved him even now.
The differences far outweighed the similarities but there were similarities.
Where their personalities seemed to be in stark contrast to one another, the echoes of their shared past could be found within the physical… not so much their looks, but in their actions and behaviours.
Their habits told anyone willing to look beyond the surface that they had grown up together, that once upon a time they had been close.
That once upon a time they had been brothers.
Little ticks like how Vander had idly tapped on his thigh when he was unsettled or distracted in a 3, 2, 2 beat and how Silco would tap that same little rhythm against his desk when handling particularly dull paperwork or considering… difficult problems.
The way both men seemed to draw the attention of every person in whatever room they dined to enter.
Or even something as trivial as how they both ate with a knife and fork using the same grip on the handles and eating in a circular clockwise motion rather than merely stabbing their fork into whatever they fancied.
They were two sides of the same coin.
Both Zauns children, both irrevocably shaped by it and yet…
Despite all her musings, the differences would forever outweigh the similarities.
Where Vander worried and cautioned, Silco provided praise and egged her onward.
Where Vander strove to encourage that words were always the better option and violence was a last resort, Silco informed her that sometimes actions spoke louder than words ever could.
With Silco she had more attention and praise than she’d ever received with Vander so logically she should be happier?
Surely, she should surely feel more loved at the very least?
And yet… there was a steadiness to Vander. A warmth that permeated his very being and latched onto those around him that Silco lacked.
In time Jinx told herself that she would learn to embrace the cold and forget the warmth that she had lost.
That she didn’t need it.
She would wrap the numbness around her like a cloak and wear it as armour so that nothing could hurt her.