Where Memories Sleep [Vanyel, Violet]

It had been nagging Vanyel for months now. That one tiny, innocuous detail that Violet had let slip while she had been staying in Japan with him. It was so tiny, yet it stuck with him so much that, now, he finally felt like he needed to talk about it. So, with a sharp exhale, he walked through the house to the shower, knocking a few times, before opening the door slightly.

"Vi? I wanna talk to you about something. Once you're done, can you come out and sit on the couch?"

He waited for her response, before closing the door and heading back to the couch, sighing. He had figured that it was something she didn't want to talk about. But, with how much that one line had been bugging him, and the other smaller things that he'd noticed since he started living with her, he felt like it was long overdue for them to talk about it. He loved her, he trusted her, but he also wanted to make sure that he knew just as much about her as she did about him.

As he watched her come out, he noticed her clothes sticking, and he chuckled softly, reaching to gently touch her hand, scooting a bit closer to her. He hadn't expected her to hurry like that.

"Hun, you didn't need to speedrun getting dressed. I could'a waited."

However, he noticed that look, and the warm smile faded to concern for a moment, before his other hand reached around to gently rest on her shoulder. He knew that she always tended to assume the worst, so, he shook his head lightly, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

"No, no. You didn't do anythin' wrong. I just wanted to talk to you about something. I...should have asked sooner, really. But, I just...didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable or upset with me. When...when we were staying at my place in Japan, I remember you mentioning somethin' when we were getting ready to make French toast. You said that your mom made it once, and when she found out you liked it, never made it again."

Vanyel's hand tightened ever so slightly around Violet's, holding onto her, as if to try and ensure himself that she wouldn't run away for what he was about to ask.

"...Can you tell me about your family? I've told you basically everything about mine, but, I don't know a lot about yours. I just have a feeling it was...not good. I didn't want to put a rift between us and end up pushing you away, so, I...I never asked. I won't judge you, and it won't make me see you any differently. I just...want to know more about you."

And, given what he knew about her, also use it as a way to learn what kind of fucked-up notions he needed to work on un-teaching her. He wanted her to be the best she could be -- to be the happy, smiling woman that he loved so much.

Her turning her head to make sure he kissed her lips always brought a smile to his face and made him chuckle a little. It was adorable, how couldn't he like that? Rubbing her shoulder, Vanyel scooted a bit closer to her, his arm moving from her shoulder to her waist as he held her close to him, his other hand gripping hers with firmness, yet still managing to be gentle.

"First off, she has a stupid line of logic. As long as you keep a good balance of exercise and food, weight gain isn't that big of an issue. But, second...as much as you're comfortable sharing. I...I won't lie, part of me is wanting to see if there are any stupid notions that your parents put in your head that I can show you the truth of. But, more than anything, I want us to be transparent with each other."

Part of had a feeling that there wasn't much, if anything he could do that would comfort her. He knew that he had been right, at least partly, deep down. She didn't seem to want to talk about it, he could recognize that terrified gaze from a mile away. But, he persisted, for both her sake, and his own.

Despite the reassurance he tried to provide with his hand around her waist, his gaze still held worry and concern. Nevertheless, he listened closely. Both of her parents being Quincy made sense, but what shocked him the most was the amount of land she said she lived in. Doing the visualization in his head, his eyes widened at the sheer scale of her childhood home, his surprise coming out in a whisper.

"Holy shit, that's a big property..."

But, he composed himself. His arm gripped her waist just the slightest bit tighter, before he sighed softly. He could tell that she wasn't sure what to tell him, much less about the details. He wanted them to be transparent with each other, so, he needed to cut the bullshit and just ask her what he wanted to know.

"...Tell me what happened in your childhood. Your mom not wanting you to 'get fat' doesn't make sense for her to ban something like French toast outright. What...what did they do to you?"

It was a question that brought hesitance to even Vanyel himself. He wanted to know, but, at the same time, part of him didn't. Just from that one note he knew about her mom, he already didn't like her, but...something told him that it was going to get a lot worse. He had a sinking feeling in his gut about this, but he wasn't even sure if it was his general paranoia and anxiety right now, or if it was an ill omen.

Vanyel was stunned. The more she said, the angrier he got. Not at her, god no. She was the victim. Every admonishing thing she said about herself made him sick to his stomach. There was a saying that he heard growing up, something along the lines of "all children deserve parents, but not all parents deserve children," and this was a prime case. But, even with all of his anger, something else welled up inside him at hearing her story.

Heartbreak.

What made it all so much worse was that she smiled during it. She tried to justify these...fucking horrid actions, and it only made him grip onto her hands harder. The more excuses she tried to make for them, the more she tried to lie to herself about it, it only made Vanyel's hands and body visibly tremble in rage.

I'll kill them.

How could they do that to their daughter?

I'll kill them.

Even his own mother, as horrible as she had been when he was growing up and taking things out on him when his dad left, never did some of the things that Violet's parents had done to her.

They're dead.

As Violet went to grab her hair, Vanyel's trembling hands slowly reached up to take them in his own, his eyes wide and staring downward, though there was no focus to his gaze. It looked as if he was staring off into space, his eyes so full of hate and rage. He was still hearing everything, but only specific words started to process.

"Didn't hit Jasmine."

Dead.

His own thoughts started to mix with Violet's words, his fingers tightening around hers, slowly bringing them to his lips.

"Never wanted me."

FUCKING DEAD.

"Sleep in shed."

Everything was mixing together, and he couldn't stop it.

Right now, it was taking everything in his power to stay seated where he was.

"Bruises."

"Hired a healer to make the bruises go away."

His arms trembled more and more as he held Violet's hands close to him, trying to keep himself composed. The noise in his head was growing louder and louder, his own thoughts mixing with words and terms from Violet's story, what he wanted to respond with, what he wanted to do. His head was going a mile a minute, it was like a storm that just didn't stop, but he could hear one thing loud and clear.


Then, without thinking, Vanyel wrapped his arms around Violet. He held her close to his chest, holding her firmly and safely, despite his body still trembling. Finally, the storm cleared, and, all he could say was...

"...It's not your fault."