[Kyrie is not unaware of the things people call her in Fortuna. Angel. Saint. She's always thought it was going too far, she's just an ordinary person trying to do her best for other people. Her parents had raised her to be kind, to put the needs of others to the forefront and do whatever she could to be helpful and that's how she's tried to live her life. That doesn't mean she's unaware of that people use that perceived ideal of her to judge her decisions and choices.
She's tried not to be judgemental. She's tried to be good and ignore certain things, to always think the best of people but when it comes to some things she won't allow herself to be pushed around. She's learning to stand up for herself.
Sometimes that's hard. Sometimes she immediately wants to reach out and pacify, to not put up a fight and let someone else have an easier time of it, to hell with how she herself might feel as a result.
This is one of those moments.
She didn't envisage how this conversation was going to play out, what her verdict might be or how she might feel. All she wanted was her questions answered and the right to make her own mind up. She's been given that.
It doesn't mean her mind's made up. It's been eased, certainly, but she's still so unsure. She just... doesn't know.
And she feels awful.]
I want to thank you for being so honest with me. I-
[Didn't go easy Wasn't kind Didn't try to understand because I can't Don't want to forgive you only to take it back if you hurt him again
wish I knew what to do]
I know this hasn't been an easy conversation. Thank you.
[Vergil draws a breath, and for a moment, it may appear as though he is about to speak. He says nothing though. Her words right now are not things that he takes as an unkindness—not any more than he believes any of the other things she's said or asked have been—but the numbness he clings to in order to maintain his neutrality means they do not reach him in any meaningful way beyond a signal their conversation is at its end. Vergil turns from her completely then, making his way to his bedroom where there is nothing but quiet and stillness.]
[Kyrie doesn't realise until Vergil returns to the quiet calm of his own bedroom just how chaotic her own body feels when she's left alone. She feels utterly sick to her stomach and there's a peculiar ringing in her ears that she just can't shake.
Her knees feel like they're about to buckle beneath her and in her wobbliness she leans against the counter top, trembling and willing herself to just be calm, to breathe and to focus.
It didn't go badly, but she doesn't feel like it went well. And it doesn't feel like it's right.
None of this is right, there's nothing right about the situation and she's fairly certain there's no one around to tell her what 'right' would look like in circumstances like this. At the very least, she's assured that she hasn't taken a metaphorical can of gasoline to the bridge that is her burgeoning relationship with Nero's father and torched it.
Right?
Her eyes grow hot and her vision misty and not wanting to create more of a scene, she bolts back to the safety of her room, wanting nothing more than to bury her face in a pillow and cry.]
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She's tried not to be judgemental. She's tried to be good and ignore certain things, to always think the best of people but when it comes to some things she won't allow herself to be pushed around. She's learning to stand up for herself.
Sometimes that's hard. Sometimes she immediately wants to reach out and pacify, to not put up a fight and let someone else have an easier time of it, to hell with how she herself might feel as a result.
This is one of those moments.
She didn't envisage how this conversation was going to play out, what her verdict might be or how she might feel. All she wanted was her questions answered and the right to make her own mind up. She's been given that.
It doesn't mean her mind's made up. It's been eased, certainly, but she's still so unsure. She just... doesn't know.
And she feels awful.]
I want to thank you for being so honest with me. I-
[Didn't go easy
Wasn't kind
Didn't try to understand because I can't
Don't want to forgive you only to take it back if you hurt him again
wish I knew what to do]
I know this hasn't been an easy conversation. Thank you.
no subject
no subject
Her knees feel like they're about to buckle beneath her and in her wobbliness she leans against the counter top, trembling and willing herself to just be calm, to breathe and to focus.
It didn't go badly, but she doesn't feel like it went well. And it doesn't feel like it's right.
None of this is right, there's nothing right about the situation and she's fairly certain there's no one around to tell her what 'right' would look like in circumstances like this. At the very least, she's assured that she hasn't taken a metaphorical can of gasoline to the bridge that is her burgeoning relationship with Nero's father and torched it.
Right?
Her eyes grow hot and her vision misty and not wanting to create more of a scene, she bolts back to the safety of her room, wanting nothing more than to bury her face in a pillow and cry.]