maid ? kaeya

li

A frown was still apparent upon (Y/N)'s face. She stared at herself in the mirror, her fingers fidgeting within each other.

"Do you still... remember her face, Dad..? Do you remember... her voice..?"

"You always say that I look like her but... when I look in the mirror... I can't see her at all. Even though I know I look more like her than I look like you... Even when I have dreams about her... I immediately forget how she looked... and the sweetness of her voice..."

At that, (Y/N)'s father couldn't help but frown. He shook his head, his lips just brushing against the top of his daughter's hair.

"I admit I..." he let out a small breath, "I don't really remember her voice that well anymore. I know how it used to sound like, but I can't replicate it in my mind anymore... Of course, it hurts but... I know your mother wouldn't want me to get hung up on it..."

"As for her face... well..." a familiar bittersweet look filled his eyes, "when people tell you that you look just like her, they're not lying. I probably would have a much harder time trying to remember it exactly if it weren't for you. Though, sometimes I still do struggle. Like with her eyes, for example. You have my eyes, not hers, so when I try to remember them... all I remember is the sparkle she had in them, and how... that sparkle quickly began to fade in the last moments of her life... It hurts to think about it really..."

Luca pursed his lips, his head down.

"That's why I didn't put her on that cake too. Of course, I considered it, but I was too scared of getting her wrong... and of my memory deceiving me. I'm sorry."

(Y/N) sniffled, as her father placed the necklace back into the jewellery box. (Y/N) reached for his hand, delicately playing with his fingers.

"Regardless, when you look in the mirror, it's okay if you don't see her. The person you see in the mirror is a reflection of you, not your mother. You were also very young when she passed. You shouldn't blame yourself if there are things you cannot remember from back then. I'm sure that your mother would just be happy that she's still alive in our memories."

Luca glanced at his daughter in her silence. Her fingers had wrapped around his, just like when she was small, her gaze solemn yet her whole body still.

Luca shuffled, pressing a small kiss upon her head. "Why don't we go and visit her grave today, hm? We haven't been in a while. Lucien might want to come too. She misses Ilse a lot too."

"Okay..." (Y/N) mumbled. "I wanna stay like this for a bit though..."

With an endeared smile on his lips, Luca nodded.

"That's fine by me," he whispered.

•

Luca watched quietly as (Y/N) sat in front of her mother's grave for a long time.

She was fiddling with the flowers they had just bought, and she was talking very quietly, telling Ilse every single thing that had happened in her life since the last time she visited.

Lucien was with them temporarily, but decided to step away when she could feel herself getting emotional.

"Don't you want to talk to her..?" the voice beside him asked.

Luca's gaze fell.

"I don't know what to say," he admitted. "You didn't need to come as well, you know. I mean... she was my wife. Doesn't it... make you feel a little... strange..?"