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Irina sat in Hank's television room which had all three networks and PBS. Some part of her felt too scared to stand and wait in the buzzing silence, so she showed herself to the room she sat in. She hoped her inspirational- or maybe pathetic words worked their way into Charles' mind.
She wished him back. To another night in his study, whiskey in hand, a forgotten chessboard in front of them. She hoped to see him in the library, side by side with his beautiful daughter laughs dampening the air.
She wished a lot of things back.
How are you feeling, my love, asked a familiar, soothing British voice. Cillian. There were moments when his voice popped into her head, detangling all her thoughts. She yearned for them.
Not the best.
The memory of his chuckle ringed. Always the honest.
That's a lie, you know it.
Might be, but what you feel can never be a lie.
Mmh, even in her head her voice sounded amused, you would know.
I know everything. Just like you know Gaia's right.
You're a horrible man, Cillian.
Actually, I'm a corpse. She urged for him to shut up, silence his burdening words. And, here I thought you missed me.
More than you think.
Let me go and meet me in another life.
I want you in this one.
That's not possible.
Always the honest.
Russian echoed in her mind. Karina. This is idiotic, you know?
God, babushka-
Never use his name in vain.
Says the one who's the embodiment of nightmares.
Why do you still put up a fight when you cannot win? You know you must let go. Gaia is correct- let him go.
But, I can't.
Yes, you can. You can do anything.
So let me keep him.
Never mind, not everything. My darling, Irina, why do you wish for a dead man? You have a living daughter, a friend who needs your love- your care, and maybe a lover who needs a bit of direction.
Erik is not a lover.
Yet you thought of him. I could be talking about Hank for all you know. Karina sighed. Let him go. Stop this. Let Cillian go, let me go, let your parents go. This is not you.
