Yearning for the Distant

06- Six

"And as the storm rose, I looked at the sky, the loving gaze, I once hoped to receive but maybe it was all I could do, may the last tear be worth the Armageddon."

VI

FLORENCE.

Therapy was used to help people overcome their struggles. However, instead of seeking a cure, she found comfort in her problems. During therapy, instead of being cured, Rutherford becomes so intimidating that even the therapist is scared. She didn't just analyze the patient's demons, but made them weaker, without taunting or making the patient self-aware. Although she may seem helpful, the fact that she weakens your demon ultimately destroys you.

She wasn't shaped by her life experiences or external factors - she was born with a natural inclination towards destruction. She is like a little dog on a leash, obediently following orders but secretly craving power over her master. Despite her struggles and hardships, she continued to live life to the fullest, making the most of every moment. It was clear that she was meant to be a leader.

As I finish chewing a piece of pork, the annoying sound of typing from her laptop and the movement of her fingers bring me out of the trance. Even though she had been here for the past few hours, I had not noticed her until now. Despite her ability to make herself invisible, she appeared weak and incapable of doing anything for herself. Although I may describe my sister's face as bitchy, mine looked even worse, highlighting the fact that I preferred my own company over that of others.

"When do your therapy sessions start?" I asked curiously, waiting for a response from her downcast eyes. They looked empty, almost devoid of emotion.

"Tomorrow," she replied in her thick British accent, her voice low but prominent. She was never one for small talk, preferring to get straight to the point.

She put her laptop back in her leather bag and stood up, placing a stamped letter on the table for me, as she always did. I tried to act like I didn't love these letters, but it was a lie, and she could see right through me.

"Bye, Flo." She bent down and hugged me, as I held her in a comforting embrace.

"Bye, take care." My words were muffled because she was six foot four and I was six foot tall. Her height made her stand out wherever she went, although her ability to blend in with any crowd was even more impressive.

She wore a cherry knee-length polo dress with a cherry wig that almost looked black, and a pair of classic Vans, which showcased her toned legs and outlined her beautiful hourglass figure.

"I love your nails," I said to her, admiring her emerald green nails which contrasted with her natural long nails that were covered in clear coating.

"Thanks," she replied.

Suddenly, Rutherford's low breathy voice reached my ears like a tender lullaby. Despite her cold nature, she was always so playful with everyone.

"Mhm," I responded, pretending to be impatient whilst crossing my arms against my chest and puckering my lips out.

"I love you," she said. With that, she lifted me and twirled me around the kitchen, causing me to laugh and cry out in happiness.

"I love you too," I replied, wiggling in her grasp and urging her to put me back down.

"Don't forget, we have dinner this evening at the mansion. Make sure to be present," I reminded her once my feet made contact with the ground.

"I already sent a letter," she replied with a smirk. Our mother had married into this Italian family and we liked the man, although his children were another story.