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"How did you do it?"
The voice is so quiet, Silver thinks she might have not heard it at all. It doesn't even sound like Violet, a mumble that has lost all its command. "What did you say?" Silver asks.
They're sitting in the tower, the only of their two siblings here.
The rest of their siblings were downstairs, and she trusted they would be safe because Nox was a human now, and her siblings hadn't been kidnapped for a whole month. Everyone's adjusted themselves well to their new family, and their lives are content. Violet and Silver are sitting on the edge of their fabricated little garden on the edge of the dollhouse, the one that Chase had bought violets for just last week.
Bless his little heart.
She'd looked at the violets with narrowed eyes, nodding with a tight lipped smile. It was the closest to gratitude she would give Chase—she still couldn't tell how genuine Chase was being.
Anger coursed her way through her body so heavily that she had to step back that day. It gets worse when she cannot pinpoint the source of the anger, until she's left with spiraling, forced to torture herself with her own thoughts, or torture others with her thoughts. Violet chooses the former, always does when she's angry.
She doesn't understand why anger stays with her. Even if Violet's anger isn't explosive right now, the dull irritation she always feels doesn't fail to tap into her metallic side.
Silver forgives too easily, and she looks at humans differently. She doesn't use her hurt to hurt, she uses it to forgive.
Violet is jealous and angry and doesn't understand why she can't do that, doesn't understand how Silver could ever look at trauma from a lens of love and not that of anger.
It's also because Violet hates humans, if that wasn't already clear.
Hate is a disgusting and immoral thought, and Violet thinks that too. After all, Violet had felt the shackles of injustice, of Ex-Libris' hatred. There were days locked away without her family. Maybe Violet should feel pity, because she was once treated and ridiculed the same, hated.
Is it too far that I feel the need to get back what I have lost from humans?
There's nothing that she can fix, but Violet hates herself and wants to fix her thoughts anyways.
Silver taps her again, and Violet momentarily jolts out of it. "Sister, what is it? You went quiet."
"How do you…forgive their ki— humans?" She cringes at how horrible she sounds. Their kind.
Violet looks away as she asks the question, opal eyes flickering with guilt—both at hating humans so much that she could barely even think of them sometimes without wanting to hurl her plastic crown in rage, and also at asking her younger sister for advice.
Violet's understood long by now that she is not a good person. Her anger solidifies this.
Violet doesn't forgive, she doesn't forget. It's what makes her so angry, what's led to her isolating herself and throwing tantrums at the littlest of inconveniences.
Her voice is never this quiet. But now that Violet is back with all her family, she cannot help but think about it all. She has no one left to save, leaving her alone with her stewing thoughts and stretched-out silences. Silver opens her mouth, like she doesn't know how to answer that. "I…I don't, sister. I never have."
Out of all things Violet was expecting, it wasn't that. Her head snaps to her, curl falling over the front of her face as her mouth drops open. "What?"
"I don't forgive humans. I…" Silver swallows, her eyes downcast. She's glowing, and out of all her siblings, Violet would be biased and say she's the most perfect one, the best of all. Favoritism didn't exist with her siblings, but being her polar opposite, Silver never managed to not impress her with how she carried herself. She carried mistrust and fabricated it with forgiveness, learned to overcome hurdles despite facing the worst of the hands of Ex-Libris. Compared to her, Violet had faced nothing. She didn't deserve to be angry—if anyone, Silver did. "I see them. I see what they feel."
"And what do they feel?"
"Helpless, sometimes." Violet nearly snorts, but since it's Silver, she listens to the heroine's wisdom and keeps her offending little mouth shut. Silver has been around Chase and Deacon long enough to understand them more than Violet ever will, perhaps.
"Not all of them are horrible." And Violet knows that deep in her heart they are not.
But she cannot believe it, cannot let her anger pass her by.
Violet feels like she has something to fight or compensate for. When she does not have even that, then what was she even angry about? It makes her anger worthless, makes every emotion she's ever felt towards humans irrelevant because the same species that had taken her family were now her protectors.
Even her sibling was a human now. She was connected to humans, and Violet was selfish and stupid like them.
She was no better than her captors.
"I know." Violet chokes. She looks off, hugging her knees to her chest and scooting away from Silver. I know they aren't all horrible, so why do I still hate them?
She needs to compensate for all the hurt. If she doesn't hurt, she'll forget it.
And forgetting, becoming accustomed to their ways seems like a nightmare. It feels like betraying her siblings, and trusting humans when they've injured her sister and hurt her family feels like betraying who she is.
Violet pulls her knees to her chest, almost angry with the way that her whole body starts shaking, as if she's a human who can do stupid human things like that.
She'll never be one of them, nor will she ever forget the hurt. The overwhelming urge to hold onto that is what scares her the most.
Silver sighs. "Oh, sister."
"I'm fine." Silver scoots closer, regardless of Violet's crumpling frame, the distant opal eyes and the shame and guilt coursing through her the more she thinks about it.
Speaking freely felt like a luxury, but not always a good one.
Violet always thought too much about these things. About hurt, and anger, and guilt, and how she needed to hold onto them, or else she'd forget, and if she forgot, she'd— she wouldn't know what to do.
She's said it enough, but it doesn't stop her anger nor the feeling of dread among her, like were the same feelings the nightmares have given her. "I know you know." Silver mumbles finally. Her voice is soft and sweet and comforting, and it's more than what Violet ever deserves.
Violet sighs. "I just…I can't empathize with them so easily. Forgetting feels like forgeting what happened, what they've done to us."
"We haven't forgotten, sister. Ex-Libris are not good people. But…Chase and Deacon try their best to be. They all do their very best and I see it." The way Silver speaks, commanding and hopeful makes Violet want to believe it.
It's true. Chase and Deacon keep bringing Violet little gifts, even though she never asks. Nox's doing, probably—commanding his new household to help him smother his siblings with little gifts.
Violet always reluctantly takes the gifts with a nod of acknowledgement, even though she feels guilt and awkward eyes on her as they wait for her approval—it's like they don't know how to treat her, and Violet feels strangely about it.
Violet understands and always nods. It's not a thank you, never really is.
It's also partially because every gift feels like an obligation, a trap. What do I need to give up? What type of trick is this?
But their tricks never come.
There's no obligations, no key rings, boxes, or hands to grab her siblings away.
Silver is right when she says the key-holders try, or even more than try. It's more than her siblings have ever been given. In fact, it's so much at once that Violet doesn't know what to do with it. It's like…it's like it shifts everything she's known about humans.
Violet can't help think about them more and more.
There's Chase—the heroine key-holder Nox has fallen madly in love with. He's the key holder that Violet raised her eyebrow the highest at, his kindness so much that she was waiting for him to pop out like a jester and declare, just kidding! I'm an evil sorcerer and part of Ex-Libris, and I am here to announce your imprisonment once more!
The whole thought process was ridiculous, and Violet knew that. It was so difficult to trust him, even though it should've been counterintuitive—he was nice. Too nice, maybe.
She supposed he was kindhearted and selfless—his wish was for his mother, not fame. And even Violet could feel her soul twist at that. She knew that feeling.
Besides his kindness and encouragment, Chase always had his hands on Nox, kissing him on the cheek in front of her or hugging him from behind. Violet blanches at the thought. She'd rather not think about that aspect. There was a petty reason to hate Chase—he's turned Nox into an utter fool, his human soul pulling him into Chase.
Love was disgusting, and yet Violet was faintly happy for how Chase had made her little brother over the moon.
There's Deacon—the helper keyholder that Nox christened Freckles. He's the key-holder that Violet did not have as much suspicion towards. He was terrified of her, awkwardly stammering as he tried to ask her if she wanted anything. Violet's mere presence seemed to stress Deacon out, and often he stuck to reading his hidden romance novels under a box in the attic.
He'd come in, bump his head on the trapdoor, litter the room with profanities, and slip away with a romance novel. She gave him some credit because he read books, but as Chase often teased, he was a…loser.
Yes, that's the silly human word for it, the one that Violet had stolen.
Silver looks to Violet, who's still stuck deep in thought. Purple reflects off the light in the tower, ever so gorgeous.
Her space buns tap against the cardboard dollhouse as Violet leans against it. Silver watches her sister consider, think.
Violet hasn't forgiven every human she's ever met quite so yet. In fact, she still feels like there's so many things wrong with them that it makes her head spin. But she feels like maybe that is not fair on them. She's an angry key, but she wants to learn how to grow out of it. She could remember that injustice, but she could use it to learn to trust again, like Silver does.
She isn't gentle or soft spoken like her sister. Nor is she as empathetic.
It was hard, but—
Hurried footsteps climb up the ladder, feet falling against wood, and Violet snaps out of it.
It's Chase, hair askew, eyes bright. His head whips to the dollhouse. "Hey Vi, hey Sil! I got you guys snacks!"
Silver jumps up. "Cheezos! Violet, look, there's mints for you!" She grins at Violet, watching how her opal eyes take in the gift. Chase holds his breath for a moment, and Violet notices the nervousness in his gaze.
The gift isn't everything, but it's something. The gift isn't forgiveness handed out plainly, but it's acknowledgment.
Chase scratches the back of his head as Violet simply stares. There isn't even a nod this time. "Um, I'll get go—"
"Thank you." Violet interrupts, and the sound is so small that it feels like Chase didn't hear it at all.
He tries to keep his mouth neutral, but his mouth flickers into a relieved, confused smile. "Well, you're welcome. I'm glad to hear you liked it. I gotta go pick up Nox from work."
"Where are my siblings?" Violet asks, stopping Chase before he can leave.
"Well, Nox is at work, everyone else is in the dollhouse downstairs—uhh, I think Rose is taste-testing the Valentine's day cookie frosting with Grandpa Ralph…and Bronze is there too!" Chase adds quickly, before Violet's face can scrunch up in distaste.
She nods, relaxing. "Good. I just want to know that they're safe." Something twists in her stomach. It isn't forgiveness, but it's awkward, begrudging warmth. It's acknowledgment.
"They will be." Chase finishes.
He smiles and walks back down the steps, his bedroom door shutting behind him.
Violet still can't help but think, even now.
It isn't everything, but it's something.
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Art by All_Is_Perfect <3
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