[ Seven. Somehow, it's so unbelievable that she continues to stand stock-still for far too long, eyes stuck on the face of the cheery girl with Cullen's hair. Our child, she thinks dizzily, and has to remind herself that this isn't a vision of their future. It's only a dream.
... Still. The sense of warmth and hope that seems to make up the very air and space of his dream doesn't quite reach her, not all the way through. Cecily feels a strange guilt when she looks at Cullen and longing when she looks again at their daughter - Aislin - waiting impatiently to have her hair braided by her doting father. ]
I'm not sure I'd be a good mother. [ She whispers, having not yet moved to find their child other clothing. Her nails bite into her palms in the way that she's always dealt with pangs of self-loathing, which has become particularly painful with the introduction of the anchor. ]
I'm not- [ Cecily repeats on a breath, now more guilty-feeling than ever for interrupting such a sweet dream and feeling intensely out of place in what is meant to be, in some ways, her own life. ] ... I don't think I would be.
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... Still. The sense of warmth and hope that seems to make up the very air and space of his dream doesn't quite reach her, not all the way through. Cecily feels a strange guilt when she looks at Cullen and longing when she looks again at their daughter - Aislin - waiting impatiently to have her hair braided by her doting father. ]
I'm not sure I'd be a good mother. [ She whispers, having not yet moved to find their child other clothing. Her nails bite into her palms in the way that she's always dealt with pangs of self-loathing, which has become particularly painful with the introduction of the anchor. ]
I'm not- [ Cecily repeats on a breath, now more guilty-feeling than ever for interrupting such a sweet dream and feeling intensely out of place in what is meant to be, in some ways, her own life. ] ... I don't think I would be.