[He really did love Sophie. Maelle sighs softly again, feet swaying.]
Yeah. I'm just saying... [Her words hang for a moment. What is she saying? It feels strange to think about a future, because that implies a win, here. A win, and they both survive to make it home. It seems daunting to think about a life without an expiry date. At least not anytime soon.
She's not prodding a bruised part of his heart just for fun.]
I'm just saying that if it's something you still want, I hope you get it. You would have some lucky children. And--I'm sorry it didn't happen with Sophie.
[ He hadn't ever talked to Maelle about this before, first because she was too young and then... he hadn't wanted to talk about it to anybody. A few quiet conversations with Emma had been the bulk of his discussions; most others he'd allowed to think what they wanted about why he and Sophie had broken up.
But he remembers how sweetly Maelle had tried to cheer him up in his heartbreak, and that memory conjures another, softer smile. ]
But I'll be okay even if it doesn't happen. I already have you, don't I?
It's... different when it's your own blood, isn't it?
[Right? She can only assume. The jealousy threatens to bubble up again. The bond Gustave would have with his flesh and blood would fulfill something he's longed for. She thinks he deserves to have it. He deserves everything he wants.]
[The word comes out quickly, as does the red to her cheeks. Called out, Maelle. She shakes her head and looks out at the expanse before them, impossibly long and dark in the night.
Love her less? No, never. Would he love his own children more? Would that hurt? Probably. Maelle shifts in her spot, uncomfortable.]
It's just. Natural, I think. And I'm essentially grown up, anyway.
He taps his fingers against the rock of the ledge, thoughtful, then tips his face up to cast his glance up to the stars, giving her a little privacy. ]
Back before Sophie and I broke up, when it was still a possibility, you know what I was most excited for?
[ A casual sidelong glance before he looks away again. ]
Introducing your new baby brother or sister to you, and getting to see you holding them in your arms. Knowing how lucky they'd be to have you there to follow around and imitate and rely on.
[What little they've relaxed is erased at his question. The look she gives him somehow manages to be even more apologetic.]
... it wasn't really a guess. I mean, it would make sense. [He's loving and enjoys teaching and mentoring and simply having a family. One day, Maelle would realize that likely meant he hoped for kids of his own some day.]
[It feels important to know this part about him. Maelle falls quiet as she tries to envision what that would have looked like. A little chubby bundle in Gustave's arms, and the light in his eyes as he'd invite her over and introduce her. And then, one day, sitting her down to make sure his wishes for his child were outlined. Maybe he would leave her a notebook of wise words and hopes that she could share with them. Fond things in their father's own words, his own hand, so they would know how much he loved them. And Maelle would do her best. Maybe, maybe.
She sighs again, letting that particular image go. They're past that point. She looks to Gustave again, and smiles. She doesn't want him to be sad.]
... you are the best father.
[A minor correction of her earlier words. Not would be. He already is.]
[ He looks over at her at that small sigh, the way her slender shoulders rise and fall, like she's carrying some weight she doesn't know how to put down. All of this is... it's so unexpected to him, to talk about just now, but she must have been mulling it over for a while. It's been a long time now since that sunset at the harbor, the last time either of them saw Sophie.
He watches her think, and decide, and look over at him, and the deliberate way she makes her smile warm and bright, and thinks: how could he have ever been this lucky, so lucky, to have found her?
Gustave smiles back, leans to nudge his shoulder against hers — carefully, seeing as they're still only inches away from a long fall to a quick death. ]
[Praise from him always gets her right in the heart. Her smile is fond, and she gently bumps his shoulder back, laughing softly. He has such a big heart. Maybe that makes it all the more silly for her to be jealous of children that don't exist. He would love them all.]
Thanks.
[Ultimately, it's probably for the best that he didn't have children without knowing whether he'll be around or not. But, if they win...]
Yeah. Plenty to worry about before we get anywhere close to that.
[ And the chances of them, all of them, living to see what new world the others might create through defeating the Paintress are... well, they can't be high.
But Maelle will be one of the ones who makes it. He'll do anything to ensure it.
He gives her a look, askance, putting on a show of wariness for her. ]
You don't have any other big questions for me right now, do you? Am I going to have to explain where babies come from?
[ She's doing it on purpose, twisting the knife, and he won't disappoint her by not reacting. He screws his face up in exaggerated horror that is, actually, slightly based in the real thing. He can't imagine Maelle being interested in any of that, really. ]
Yeah. Better her than me, that's for sure. That wouldn't have been a conversation either of us enjoyed.
If anyone could Gommage from pure embarrassment, I'm sure we would have. Bless Emma for taking it in hand before things got that far.
[ Her laugh is worth it, as is the sparkle in her eyes. Better: he prefers to see Maelle smiling and happy than worried over something that never ended up happening, and probably will never happen. ]
[Maelle still wanted to jump into the sea as Emma decided to leave no stone left unturned in her explanations. But she only did it so she would be prepared, and now, a little older, Maelle appreciates it.]
I've got two sisters who love me. I'm pretty lucky.
[ He misses Emma, more than he thought he would. They'd always been close, but over the last few years, between her work and his, they'd seen less and less of each other. Their adult lives had taken them in different directions.
Still, he wishes he could talk to her, seek the practical advice she was always so adept at offering. She loves them both, he knows. If he has any regrets, it's that he and Maelle had left Emma back there in Lumiere, alone. ]
[Maelle grew to love him with ease. She knows it, and she dips her head with a smile.]
You are.
[Save for the fact that he's up next for the Gommage, and lost four years with the woman he loves because of their views that didn't quite align. It's sad, but some people have so much less than that, and Gustave is okay. Sad, surely, but he's not lacking love.]
[ He'd tried, he had. Tried to be the best older brother he could be, to her and to Emma both. He'd tried to show her all the love and support he could, to cheer her up when she was sad, to teach her the things she needed to know.
And in return he'd been given more love than he could ever have expected or known what to do with. His life, he thinks, has been a rich one.
He arches his eyebrows at her, purposeful and teasing. ]
Does that mean you'll stop making fun of me all the time?
Mmm... [Maelle considers this!] Nah. There's just so much to make fun of. It's my favorite thing.
[One of them, anyway. There are so many things she treasures, even the times they would sit in silence while he worked on one project or another and she flipped through a book. Time together was time together, and Maelle didn't need to be actively terrorizing him to be happy. The calm and peace was always just as good as the laughter.]
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Yeah. I'm just saying... [Her words hang for a moment. What is she saying? It feels strange to think about a future, because that implies a win, here. A win, and they both survive to make it home. It seems daunting to think about a life without an expiry date. At least not anytime soon.
She's not prodding a bruised part of his heart just for fun.]
I'm just saying that if it's something you still want, I hope you get it. You would have some lucky children. And--I'm sorry it didn't happen with Sophie.
[... even if Maelle agrees with her.]
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[ He hadn't ever talked to Maelle about this before, first because she was too young and then... he hadn't wanted to talk about it to anybody. A few quiet conversations with Emma had been the bulk of his discussions; most others he'd allowed to think what they wanted about why he and Sophie had broken up.
But he remembers how sweetly Maelle had tried to cheer him up in his heartbreak, and that memory conjures another, softer smile. ]
But I'll be okay even if it doesn't happen. I already have you, don't I?
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It's... different when it's your own blood, isn't it?
[Right? She can only assume. The jealousy threatens to bubble up again. The bond Gustave would have with his flesh and blood would fulfill something he's longed for. She thinks he deserves to have it. He deserves everything he wants.]
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I wouldn't know.
Maelle, are you... worried about this?
[ The second it passes his lips, he's certain of it. ]
Do you really think there's anything or anyone in this world that could make me love you any less?
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[The word comes out quickly, as does the red to her cheeks. Called out, Maelle. She shakes her head and looks out at the expanse before them, impossibly long and dark in the night.
Love her less? No, never. Would he love his own children more? Would that hurt? Probably. Maelle shifts in her spot, uncomfortable.]
It's just. Natural, I think. And I'm essentially grown up, anyway.
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He taps his fingers against the rock of the ledge, thoughtful, then tips his face up to cast his glance up to the stars, giving her a little privacy. ]
Back before Sophie and I broke up, when it was still a possibility, you know what I was most excited for?
[ A casual sidelong glance before he looks away again. ]
Introducing your new baby brother or sister to you, and getting to see you holding them in your arms. Knowing how lucky they'd be to have you there to follow around and imitate and rely on.
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[The word is a laugh, embarrassed still, but pleased to hear it. Even if he may just be saying it to make her feel better. It's silly.]
I'm a terrible role model. Your children would end up calling you an old man before they ever called you papa.
[Papa. The word alone feels strange to say, stirring up some other emotion Maelle doesn't want to dwell upon for too long.]
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I could think of worse fates. More of you could never be a bad thing.
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[She takes a breath, cheeks cooled, and glances over to Gustave with a sheepish smile.]
Sorry. Probably not the conversation you wanted to have... ever.
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No, it's okay. I probably should have talked to you about it before, I just...
But I don't mind.
[ He glances over again, checking to see if her shoulders have relaxed, if she's still worried. ]
How did you even guess?
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... it wasn't really a guess. I mean, it would make sense. [He's loving and enjoys teaching and mentoring and simply having a family. One day, Maelle would realize that likely meant he hoped for kids of his own some day.]
But... Sophie said as much. At the harbor.
[It's amazing she sat on it this long.]
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[ Of course she had. Sophie was always painfully honest, and if the topic had come up, she surely would have told the truth.
His mouth firms into a line that quirks up into something that isn't really a smile. ]
Well, I'm glad you got to talk with her, a little.
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[It feels important to know this part about him. Maelle falls quiet as she tries to envision what that would have looked like. A little chubby bundle in Gustave's arms, and the light in his eyes as he'd invite her over and introduce her. And then, one day, sitting her down to make sure his wishes for his child were outlined. Maybe he would leave her a notebook of wise words and hopes that she could share with them. Fond things in their father's own words, his own hand, so they would know how much he loved them. And Maelle would do her best. Maybe, maybe.
She sighs again, letting that particular image go. They're past that point. She looks to Gustave again, and smiles. She doesn't want him to be sad.]
... you are the best father.
[A minor correction of her earlier words. Not would be. He already is.]
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He watches her think, and decide, and look over at him, and the deliberate way she makes her smile warm and bright, and thinks: how could he have ever been this lucky, so lucky, to have found her?
Gustave smiles back, leans to nudge his shoulder against hers — carefully, seeing as they're still only inches away from a long fall to a quick death. ]
Thanks.
It's easy when you have the best daughter.
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Thanks.
[Ultimately, it's probably for the best that he didn't have children without knowing whether he'll be around or not. But, if they win...]
We'll see what happens down the road.
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[ And the chances of them, all of them, living to see what new world the others might create through defeating the Paintress are... well, they can't be high.
But Maelle will be one of the ones who makes it. He'll do anything to ensure it.
He gives her a look, askance, putting on a show of wariness for her. ]
You don't have any other big questions for me right now, do you? Am I going to have to explain where babies come from?
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Nooo. Your sister took care of that, thank you.
[Maelle makes a face. It's a genuine one, but a little exaggerated, because she's not surrendering her chance to make him uncomfortable.]
That, and how to make sure there aren't any unexpected additions to the household...
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Yeah. Better her than me, that's for sure. That wouldn't have been a conversation either of us enjoyed.
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That would have made me gommage well before my time.
[They're allowed to make that joke.]
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[ Her laugh is worth it, as is the sparkle in her eyes. Better: he prefers to see Maelle smiling and happy than worried over something that never ended up happening, and probably will never happen. ]
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[Maelle still wanted to jump into the sea as Emma decided to leave no stone left unturned in her explanations. But she only did it so she would be prepared, and now, a little older, Maelle appreciates it.]
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[ He misses Emma, more than he thought he would. They'd always been close, but over the last few years, between her work and his, they'd seen less and less of each other. Their adult lives had taken them in different directions.
Still, he wishes he could talk to her, seek the practical advice she was always so adept at offering. She loves them both, he knows. If he has any regrets, it's that he and Maelle had left Emma back there in Lumiere, alone. ]
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You are.
[Save for the fact that he's up next for the Gommage, and lost four years with the woman he loves because of their views that didn't quite align. It's sad, but some people have so much less than that, and Gustave is okay. Sad, surely, but he's not lacking love.]
I think I'm pretty lucky, too.
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And in return he'd been given more love than he could ever have expected or known what to do with. His life, he thinks, has been a rich one.
He arches his eyebrows at her, purposeful and teasing. ]
Does that mean you'll stop making fun of me all the time?
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[One of them, anyway. There are so many things she treasures, even the times they would sit in silence while he worked on one project or another and she flipped through a book. Time together was time together, and Maelle didn't need to be actively terrorizing him to be happy. The calm and peace was always just as good as the laughter.]
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