Work Text:
Stupid...
In the dead of night, far away from prying eyes, a light flickers on behind a locked door.
A pair of scissors in hand, a lock of hair in the other. Perfect, shining golden fibers, catching the yellow light as if it was the sun itself. All about to be ruined by an impulsive action.
He could do this.
The scissors trembled, his will steeling even so.
He had to do this.
Anthe Florian knew the consequences this decision would bring. If... If they noticed...
Well! He'll be fine! They wouldn't- they wouldn't hurt him, no that would be ridiculous! Worst they could do is leave him to fend for himself all alone–
So! What could've brought him to such an act? Well, he had lied enough already. Tricking and deceiving, what's just one more time around?
There was a sharp burning in his stomach he couldn't describe, this need to keep it short. To look as close to the ideal form he chose for himself as possible, even if that dream was far out of reach.
Even if he could choose to chase it, he wouldn't. He could never. Not for the lack of trying, he had plans of getting a job once he reached the threshold.
Even if he was old enough, even if he had the money... he couldn't leave.
Because leaving them meant leaving her as well.
Clementine. Sweet girl. He couldn't ask for better, really. All bark and only a little bite, if you caught his drift.
He always told himself - no, promised himself - that he would look after his little sister when times got tough.
Mom and dad's relationship growing unstable? "Don't worry about it Clem! Why don't you do another shadow puppet show for me?"
Dad spirals deeper into his own depressive episodes? "Hey Clem? Wanna have a sleepover?" (Totally not a ruse to tamper down his own insecurities.)
Mom is refusing to even look his way, no matter what he tries? "Hey Clem...? You wanna hang around out back?"
He is nothing without her. She is his everything.
College was... out of the picture. His own dreams, his ambitions? They paled in comparison to her.
Florian made the first cut before he could hesitate further.
It looked... Okay, it looked awful. Choppy and uneven, it was to be expected. He wasn't a professional. Just a desperate kid.
That was fine. He could make this work. Just keep going.
With each slice, more and more golden hair filtered away. Larger chunks at first, then growing smaller with precision. He was glad he at least had a mirror to work with, even if he had to crane his neck at painful angle in order to see his 'masterpiece'.
...
... It still looked stupid.
He'd done something wrong, he knew it. He still saw the same face in the mirror. Not his idealized image he'd spent time cultivating. Feminine, round, soft. Traits he once thought okay now grating against the edges of his mind and taking chunks of it with them.
Maybe if it worked out, those traits wouldn't be so bad. Maybe if he had learnt to appreciate them for what they brought, he could see a better version of himself.
But all he could see was a fraud. Just a girl who desperately wanted to be different.
Could he have been wrong? Was this the right choice? Did he just make a horrible, irreversible mistake??
He doesn't know.
He just wants to feel okay again.
He doesn't know why it won't stop nagging at him.
Imperfect.
A waste.
It was imperfect.
He was imperfect.
This was his own fault. His own doing. His own hands that had used the scissors to cut such a perfect appearance, even if his SOUL said otherwise.
Flawed. Unsightly.
Frayed and destroyed.
Marred by impulse, and now it could never be the same again–
A knock.
Brash. Forceful.
He had learnt his family's habits over the years.
His dad's knock was soft and careful. An invitation masked under care. His mother never knocked, but Florian knew the thudding of her steps anywhere, and could pinpoint them efficiently enough.
Only one person had that knock.
He wasn't spiraling. Not yet.
The boy unlocked the door, letting in the one person he trusted with his secret.
Clementine.
She was worse for wear. Bags dragged under her eyes, and clutched under her arm was an orange plush rat, even if she vehemently denied owning such a thing.
At first, there was annoyance. If he were in a better state of mind, he would have instigated a harmless jab, sparking Clem to retaliate and leading into a minor scuffle - one that Clem would ultimately win, leaving the siblings in a fit of giggles.
Then came the worry.
"... big bro...?"
Ah. Those words. Those damning words. Florian always knew he would do just about anything for his sister, but hearing her speak those two, almost meaningless words made his heart twist painfully.
She was clever. Far smarter than people gave her credit for. She could see how being seen as a girl made him feel. Even if she couldn't properly understand it just yet, all she cared about was that something was harming her older brother.
Sibling code. Written somewhere deep and unspoken. You can hate each other, fight and argue all you want. But when it came down to it, you had each other's back, through thick and thin.
(He could never bring himself to hate her. Never.)
He wished she didn't have to see him like this. He couldn't shatter the illusion she'd built up around him.
It wasn't like he was in any state to avoid it, however.
The scissors fell out of his hand, clacking against the tile with a sound far too loud to ever be comfortable.
"Heyyyy Clem...! Sorry 'bout that!" He pulled up his best approximation of a winning smile. He was aware that everything else in this situation had already ruined any chance he had at saving face. He could still try.
Clementine's tired gaze swept over him, taking in the damage he'd caused, his shaken frame, the way his voice wavered even as he attempted to keep it steady.
The illusion had shattered long before he could ever gather the pieces.
The girl stepped forward, picking the scissors up off the cold tile. She scrutinized them before placing them on the counter top.
"Was someone messing with you again?!" Even if her tone was quiet, her words had a bite to them impossible to ignore. "They should know better than to mess with my brother!!"
How could he explain to her that the criminell (heh, Henry really was rubbing off on him, wasn't he?) behind it all didn't exist in the physical realm? She couldn't fight his inner demons, no matter how hard she tried.
"No-one, Clem..!" He chirped. Florian kept his voice even, finally standing and moving past her. Maybe he could just go to bed, try and hide what he'd done. Maybe their parents wouldn't notice?
Gosh, he hated that he felt this way.
Florian prided himself in having a rather 'gung ho' attitude. He liked it that way. It made him stand out.
Now, if only he could keep up the act.
Clem gave him a look, that special shuffle and pouty face she pulled when she knew something was up.
His heart stung, lying to her like that. But she was young, and he couldn't rope her into his personal endeavors. She deserved better than that.
He was the big brother, it was his duty to protect her.
Whatever it takes, he'll protect her.