Classified || 2 || ✔️ mature

35 | Lilac

Holland stands at my back, her face drawn and void of colour, eyes unfocused, hands fisted at her sides.

I push the door open slowly, my sense peeled for any unusual noises or movement, and then I look to the ground, looking for the trip wires.

The house is silent, more than it usually is and I know Andy isn't home right now. I don't know if I'm relieved or disappointed that I don't have a buffer from my sisters eyes. I look back towards the empty road, waving Holland in.

"Is this where you've been?" She asks as she brushes past me and I follow along, shutting the door softly behind me, letting her question linger in the air between us.

"No."

I walk past her, feeling her eyes on my back, the bite of her unspoken questions at my heels, my steps almost silent down the familiar hallway before I reach the door to my destination, finally looking back at Holland and pointing to the couch.

"You need to rest."

"I need answers, Lilac." Holland doesn't move from the threshold of the door, her dark piercing eyes narrowed on me.

"And you'll get them, but you can hardly walk without assistance. You need to rest."

Her silence is loud, drumming along my exposed skin as I wait for her to step forward, my own eyes taking in the little changes in the sister I haven't seen properly in years.

"Fine." She murmurs, her eyes flicking to the couch, before she walks forward, taking a seat.

I leave the room before she can say anything else, my heart pounding incessantly behind the cage of my ribs, knocking away.

I busy myself in the kitchen, blocking unnecessary thoughts from my mind, wanting - needing the distraction.

I walk back through the door, the steaming cup of tea in hand, placing the mug in front of Holland.

"It's chamomile, it's all Andy has in her cupboard." I explain without prompt.

Holland watches me through her lashes, the darkness under her eyes seeming to spread with every silent second before she reaches forward, slipping her fingers around the warm mug, taking a small sip of the hot liquid.

"Thank you." She murmurs, settling back on the couch.

I nod my head, having no idea what to say to the woman I'm related to but can no longer relate to.

I watch her place the mug back on the table, letting the silence between us grow before I cringe, watching her eyes drift shut, her head falling backwards.

"You're going to fucking kill me." I murmur, leaning forward and pulling her into a more comfortable position, "But you need your rest."

I grab the blanket on the back of the couch, draping it over her, letting my eyes trace her face. "Sorry."

I turn from her sleeping form, slipping into the seat Andy normally occupies, the monitors in front of me lighting up when I move the mouse, delving into everything Andy has collected on my father, and everything I know she collected on Sebastian in the short time he made himself a part of my life.

• • •

My eyes are strained but I continue scanning the information, disappointment settling in my bones when no new information pops out.

A frustrated sigh exits my lips, head falling back to release the tension in my neck, fingers lifting to rub at the tight ball at the base of my neck.