[Ever slightly, her breath hitches as Joshua pulls her into a hug, and the warmth of the gesture flows through her, manifesting as a crackling heat behind her eyes. She wills dry even these happy tears, though, and reciprocates the embrace in full as if they'd done this hundreds of times since parting all those years ago.
Even if now she has to rise up into this hug with Joshua, where before she leaned down into them.
Eighteen years worth of questions flood her mind, and choosing where to begin introduces itself as a daunting prospect. One that's made worse by the nature of the answers she might receive. But as large as their divergent histories loom, Jill's determination not to let them darken this moment overshadows them with ease. So, for a moment, she doesn't say anything. Doesn't need to, really, while the hug still speaks for itself. And in that silence, she remembers how it feels to be the elder between them and finds her words again.]
No, thank you for coming home so that I can tell you in person how proud I am of who you've grown to become.
[That Rosfield heart beats in his chest every bit as stubbornly as it does in Clive's, and perhaps even more so. Jill can think of nothing happier than to know that the boy she'd thought dead all those years ago, and who endured his own unthinkable hardships, emerged as someone who she can still recognise:
That little boy who held the future of Rosaria in his hands and the Phoenix in his body, but who still held others in the warmest regard. Their footing equal. Their value shared.]
no subject
Even if now she has to rise up into this hug with Joshua, where before she leaned down into them.
Eighteen years worth of questions flood her mind, and choosing where to begin introduces itself as a daunting prospect. One that's made worse by the nature of the answers she might receive. But as large as their divergent histories loom, Jill's determination not to let them darken this moment overshadows them with ease. So, for a moment, she doesn't say anything. Doesn't need to, really, while the hug still speaks for itself. And in that silence, she remembers how it feels to be the elder between them and finds her words again.]
No, thank you for coming home so that I can tell you in person how proud I am of who you've grown to become.
[That Rosfield heart beats in his chest every bit as stubbornly as it does in Clive's, and perhaps even more so. Jill can think of nothing happier than to know that the boy she'd thought dead all those years ago, and who endured his own unthinkable hardships, emerged as someone who she can still recognise:
That little boy who held the future of Rosaria in his hands and the Phoenix in his body, but who still held others in the warmest regard. Their footing equal. Their value shared.]