ever know each other [ooc]
Verbose little bitch. Damn.
[bic] such a softer sin
Anya wasn't sure what had come over her, but from her father's reaction, it was plenty clear that it had been his genepool within her. Her eyes focused on him, on every movement, every expression, ready to defend herself, but not to attack. Anya truly was mostly defense, because she'd learnt that offensive actions had never gotten anyone anywhere. She'd managed to live through a lot of things without bringing blame to herself, nor much harm to any of the parties involved, by just defending.
'Except Aiji,' her mind taunted, and she snarled despite herself. She hadn't been able to avoid harm to her own mother in her defense.
'Because I was emotional,' she reminded herself.
'I can't let my emotions rule me.' With Ahren, it was a challenge. But she welcomed it. She welcomed the challenge of dealing with him. Maybe then she'd get her answers.
'Two fucking years, Anya. I can’t make up for that, and you know it,' he'd said, and a hybrid between a laugh and a snarl danced in the back of her throat. She thought she might've lost it and taken him down then, but she didn't.
'I'm not him,' she told herself. He was angry. He was being vicious. He was offended. She didn't have to be.
'Not a de le Poer,' she remembered, then added to that.
'But the genes are there. Watch your instinct.' It was true. She would have to watch every move she made. She couldn't be like her father. Not ever.
His hand appeared to be wounded, and she recognised it as the same type of wound she'd ever had for him... self-inflicted. Both of anger, frustration, helplessness. He felt something towards her, or because of her. This would be the opening she needed, if she took it. Perhaps she could manage to get under his skin, as he'd lived under hers for her entire life.
'Is that all this is about? Revenge?' The thought crossed her mind, but she pushed it out. She wasn't here for revenge. She was here for the truth. Whatever else she got, was extra. Like a bonus. Only not as promising.
'You don’t know anything. You know what she told you. I tried, I fucking tried.' Those words weren't the ones that fazed her. She knew he was right. She didn't know but what she'd been told by her mother. But what difference did it make? The words were starting to form, but she let him finish first.
'You’re here, and that’s enough for me. I can’t expect you to forgive me, and you can’t expect me to welcome you with open arms. I don’t even know you.' His smile shook her, but she didn't look away. He couldn't scare her. Even if he killed her... she wouldn't die pleading, or crying.
For her mother's sake, she would never give him that.
Her eyes refocused from his face, to glancing up and down him, then back to his face. Where to begin?
"You know," she said quietly, though her voice was not soft in the least,
"You're so right. You can't make up for it. Hell, you can't even make up for my mere existence, let alone not being a part of it." Her eyes burnt through his, trying to find an opening, a way to trigger his memories, his pain, where ever he might have hidden it away. Surely, he couldn't be soulless. She had to find the inside.
"And you're right about me not knowing anything but what my mother told me. I don't. Why the hell would I be here, if I did? What would bring me back here, if I were all-knowing? I certainly would have no reason to play fuck-around with you, which seems to be your gift these days."
She wasn't being kind. She wasn't even being fair. But she was going to his level, in hopes of getting him to hers. If she played his game, maybe he'd figure it out.
"This isn't about whether I forgive you, or whether you want me to call you daddy and frolic through the fuckin' flowers with you. The latter isn't possible... and currently, neither is the former." Her eyes narrowed. This was getting ridiculous. The anger was welling, and she couldn't keep it in.
"I don't know you, Ahren. And I don't know your side of the story. I'm not sure I even care to, if this is the behaviour I have to deal with to learn the truth. But in all the madness my mother existed in a year and some ago, she would have wanted me to know. It's just too bad she didn't have enough breath left to tell me that in the end." She took a deep breath, and fired her last round.
"I didn't see you doing her any favours when she was alive. How about now that she's dead, you quit telling me how much I don't know, and fix it."
Using her mother as a way to dig into him was cold. But so was he. She was fighting fire with fire, vicious cruelty with more of the same. It wasn't right, but what about this was, really?
She just hoped the fire wouldn't burn this all to the ground.
