Tiresh caught herself staring at the food in front of her, a rather blank expression settled deeply across her dolled-up face. Having her lover home was a sort of relief for the woman. She wished it was purely because of her deep affection for
Isla Draellix-Kobitana
, but there was also an underlying fear of being alone. When she was alone, she was left to the mercy of her own dark and weighted thoughts. The strange thing is, sometimes she craved solitude, unable to stand the idea of being around anyone at all. Often, anxiety and paranoia would drive her out into the cold nights of Lur as she would walk solemnly among the gardens and frozen rivers. Her eyes would then inevitably drift upward to stare at the unhindered stars and lights of the night, standing still among the shivering beauty that surrounded her, the crisp wind howling woefully across the deserted landscape.
It was in these moments that she pulled her fur close to her cheeks and let the undercurrent of grief wash over her fully. Her mind would almost always center around memories of her father, Marovik Kobitana. She would never forgive herself for his death, knowing that she had been its catalyst. And then the grief, regret, and guilt would slowly mix itself with a deep-rooted anger for the replicant that had replaced her during her captivity. As much as it was her own fault that her father was killed, it was just as much so the replicants. She would never forgive it for what had happened. She sometimes dreamed of crushing it slowly with her own bare hands, watching the circuits malfunction until just scrap metal was all that remained. Of coarse, this was pure fantasy, as the replicant was much stronger than she would ever be. But it was a fantasy that she allowed for herself to indulge in from time to time.
She had missed so much during her year of captivity… she had put everyone she was closest to in incredible danger to a NIO replicant that looked and acted just like her, deceiving everyone at a devastating level. She had missed
Valery Noble
's baby... missed the death of her husband…
She had missed so much.
She had put her dearest love, Isla, in unbelievable danger. The replicant at any time could have reached out and killed her. It had even slept with her… developed a deep and meaningful relationship with her… Conversations that she could never replicate. She struggled with feeling like a stranger, even to Isla. This last year together had helped to bridge the gap, but she could never forgive herself for what she had put Isla through.
And today… Today was the anniversary of her freedom. She felt deep gratitude for those who had put their lives in danger to free her, and she felt deep gratitude for Isla, who had nursed her back to health from the brink of death. But even after a year, she still found herself looking up at Isla with a sense of uncertainty and insecurity. Tiresh… and Kalie… had lost themselves during her brutal imprisonment, the shared mind collapsing in on itself as all of the separate personas collided together in a muddled mess of lost identity. Her mind was growing more stable as time went past, but she still had a ways to go until she felt comfortable in her own skin again.
She was slowly rediscovering who she truly was.
Tiresh jolted her eyes upward at Isla as she began to speak, pulling her mind from its contemplations. At first the look seemed rather intense, due to the nature of her thoughts, but it quickly softened. The woman smiled gently, receiving the touch on the hand without motion,
"I missed you to." She said warmly. As Isla spoke of an extended leave of absence, Tiresh registered immediately that it was due to this being the anniversary of her freedom. Maybe Isla was worried for her mental state during this time and felt that it was prudent to not leave Tiresh alone. Or perhaps it was purely so that they could be together and enjoy each others company. Tiresh was grateful regardless.
"That sounds nice." Her tone was even, almost calculated. Emotions and expressions seemed like they had to be either forced or carefully thought through for some reason. Tiresh was able to perceive that she was doing it, but had not quite understood why that was the case. She forced a smile and then projected a calculated response that seemed appropriate and would likely be received well by Isla,
"You make the best fires…"
The line seemed to fall flat, not really making much sense at all after the fact. She furrowed her brow in slight frustration as she picked up the wine and began to drink it slowly, her gaze falling downward toward the table in awkward silence.