Sitting, it would seem, is harder than she might want. It isn't the action specifically that is difficult, but the worry that once she stops all of this will become real. There is a part of her that believes if she keeps moving she can shed all of this; this knowledge of her life, this child in her arms.
Yet, sit she does, after a long pause. Close to Henri, but not as close as she might have just an hour before. The babe in her arms is restless, the lace dress she wears likely uncomfortable. Sybil wonders absently if this was her christening dress and her sisters' before that. She cannot place it, but then what memory does she have of that day?
Silence hangs between them, and Sybil is left wondering what exactly it is she should do, or say. Practicality wins out over sentiment, that focus helping her get through the moment. "She will need to be fed."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2015-09-20 01:48 am (UTC)Yet, sit she does, after a long pause. Close to Henri, but not as close as she might have just an hour before. The babe in her arms is restless, the lace dress she wears likely uncomfortable. Sybil wonders absently if this was her christening dress and her sisters' before that. She cannot place it, but then what memory does she have of that day?
Silence hangs between them, and Sybil is left wondering what exactly it is she should do, or say. Practicality wins out over sentiment, that focus helping her get through the moment. "She will need to be fed."