[ once upon a time, she could remember things going well between them, between her and Erik. It was an interesting time, a time far enough ago that it almost gets fuzzy in her brain when she tries to remember it: it's like the actual memory is being diffused through some kind of filter, made more pleasant than it actually was. Raven isn't going to delude herself; she knows full well that Erik is all sharp angles and impossibilities. She knows better than to ask certain things of him, and she always did.
[ it never stopped her from wanting them, but that was just life, she imagines. You can't always get what you want, but sometimes, you get what you need, or so she's heard in recent years. It's fitting. Erik gave her the seeds of thought, of idea; she's acted upon them in her own way, but it was him who gave them to her. It's because of him that she's grown up and out of her shell.
[ she probably does love him, just a little. In that way you love a first love, someone who probably isn't good for you, but you choose anyway. He made her feel special, unique, and most of all, safe. Safe to be herself. Safe in her own exceedingly blue skin. It's not everyone who can do that; Charles failed, and he was her family. Is. Was. She doesn't know any more. He's not dead, but are they still family?
[ it's strange, being faced with him again after so long, and while part of her is still drawn to him, she feels a distance. A split. A wedge, shoved between them by- By something she doesn't even know. She could guess, but for accuracy? She'd rather ask. She won't, though. She never will, she doesn't think. ]
<3
[ it never stopped her from wanting them, but that was just life, she imagines. You can't always get what you want, but sometimes, you get what you need, or so she's heard in recent years. It's fitting. Erik gave her the seeds of thought, of idea; she's acted upon them in her own way, but it was him who gave them to her. It's because of him that she's grown up and out of her shell.
[ she probably does love him, just a little. In that way you love a first love, someone who probably isn't good for you, but you choose anyway. He made her feel special, unique, and most of all, safe. Safe to be herself. Safe in her own exceedingly blue skin. It's not everyone who can do that; Charles failed, and he was her family. Is. Was. She doesn't know any more. He's not dead, but are they still family?
[ it's strange, being faced with him again after so long, and while part of her is still drawn to him, she feels a distance. A split. A wedge, shoved between them by- By something she doesn't even know. She could guess, but for accuracy? She'd rather ask. She won't, though. She never will, she doesn't think. ]
Long time no see.