𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐀 | (𝙣.) 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙟𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙣𝙚'𝙨 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙, 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩, 𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛, 𝙤𝙧 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚
──── In which she falls for his darkness and he falls for her light, until death does them apart.
《...
She knew better than arguing with her brother's determined decision to head back home as soon as the cheerleading team finished their performance. He couldn't care less about the game itself, despite his friends' pleas with him to stay longer and have a few beers with them. That was the beauty of Chris; his unconditional love and devotion to his sister.
It wasn't always like that, though. Even when he was just a one-year-old and had seen his mother coming back from the hospital with a new baby in her arms, he began to cry. Perhaps it was her jaw-dropping resemblance to their mom, or the heartwarming smile that her face always wore; nevertheless, this jealousy, this craving for everything his sister would have-- they stayed and lasted for years.
That, until Clary turned seven, and was told that someday she will die, and there's nothing any of them can do about it.
Since then, Chris wasn't so jealous of Clary anymore.
If anything, the thought of ever being jealous of her or wishing her harm made him sick to his stomach, and some strong feeling of hatred towards his old self. Hence, and also since he's broke out in a cold sweat every time the topic was actually brought up, he decided to set a new purpose in his life; to love, protect and care for his sister, as long as she lives. And in her death, he would make sure that she will never be forgotten, for her spirit shall forever reside in their house and lives.
At the moment, he was flopping down on the couch and tiredly answering his mother's countless questions of how was the game, and why they have returned so early, since she and his father were just about to leave for dinner out. Many times he had found himself distracted while informing his mother of whatever information she wanted to know, given how interested and invested the mother was in her children's lives. Perhaps, he thought, it was the desire to gain as much control as she can whenever she could, for she wasn't able to control the most drastic event she will have to go through soon; her daughter's inevitable death. If Linda couldn't keep her child-- her little girl --alive, then at least she would do all that she can to make her short life satisfying and pleasing.
Nevertheless, it was exhausting to keep up with the questions and return answers that won't raise suspicion or unnecessary fear at Linda's heart-- eventually, Clary was utterly fine, having a bath upstairs.
"Mom, can we not do this now? I'm bushed." He said in a pleading manner, leaning his head on the soft couch and pressing the right button to turn on the TV. He hurried to zap away the newsman reporting of something he really had no power to listen to, while his mother watched him silently and sighed.
