[ There are some things that are obvious, unspoken, too heavy; they miss their sibling, they miss familiar faces. They like this world - this dream - but they know it's not theirs.
The god had said, after all, that nothing would be changed when they returned. It's a chance, but not a change of fate.
Nothing can change that.
Instead of speaking the way they're used to, the way that's become second nature (the way they were taught, by kind strangers who have become dear to them), they ponder his words a while longer.
All the words they want to say are to those who never arrived, or those who are now gone. Instead, they take his hand in both of theirs, and...hesitate.
They've never figured out what they want to say, or how to say it. But if they wait any longer, maybe they won't be able to say it at all; it will drown in silence.
Finally, clumsy, they turn his hand over, palm up. Tracing the word into his hand before they can stop themselves. It feels quieter that way, something that only he can feel, even if nobody is there to witness it.
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The god had said, after all, that nothing would be changed when they returned. It's a chance, but not a change of fate.
Nothing can change that.
Instead of speaking the way they're used to, the way that's become second nature (the way they were taught, by kind strangers who have become dear to them), they ponder his words a while longer.
All the words they want to say are to those who never arrived, or those who are now gone. Instead, they take his hand in both of theirs, and...hesitate.
They've never figured out what they want to say, or how to say it. But if they wait any longer, maybe they won't be able to say it at all; it will drown in silence.
Finally, clumsy, they turn his hand over, palm up. Tracing the word into his hand before they can stop themselves. It feels quieter that way, something that only he can feel, even if nobody is there to witness it.
Father,
they say, and then stop,
resting their hand in his. ]