She watches her fractured memories trying to piece themselves together behind her expressive features. Luster had always been the very opposite of Heartfire, so free with her emotion, with her love. A small part of her envies her sister for that freedom, even as she knows she could never hope to emulate it. There is strength in that, a resiliency difficult to find. Where Luster bends beneath her pain, Heartfire would only shatter. And, unforgiving creature that she is, she would take those who dared break her with.
There is nothing enviable in that.
She says nothing in response to her first halting sentences. If the memories returned, she would not need Heartfire to confirm what she already knows. And Heartfire has no desire to explain those particular details. She is not a voyeur. Not for that particular facet of life. She knows enough to say with certainty who her children’s father is, to tell her why only now, after so much time has passed, she is finally carrying them. But not even for Luster would she delve into that particular memory. It is better left unseen, especially by her.
She shifts slightly when Luster finally settles on a question. It is not the question she would have asked first, but she is also not the one finding out only now that she is expecting. The very thought sends a cold chill down her spine. She couldn’t even consider the possibility. It simply didn’t bear merit.
Reaching out to her sister, she gently tweaks her sight, giving her the ability to read signatures she otherwise could not. Let her see for herself the children resting in her womb. Two distinct heartbeats. “Look Luster,”, she commands softly, gesturing at her faintly rounded stomach. It might be nearly impossible to see when one simply looks at the subtle ways her body had begun to change, but those two pulsing lights are strong and sure. A life all their own.
i see your sins
and i want to set them free
