[ She nods once, a quiet mm-hmm coming from her closed lips. Delicately, she lifts up her own doll, smoothing out some of the fabric of the tiny dress she'd sewn, only flicking her eyes up once to make sure Eustace isn't like, completely displeased with the gift. ]
I used to make them all the time for my friends. [ A pause, as she hesitates on what to say next. ] My mom would always say, Misa, make one of me too! ... But I never really got around to it.
[ Back then, she'd been a self-absorbed high school student, always promising that she'd one day do it, but always getting caught up in other things like exams or parties with her friends. It wasn't until being reminded so vividly of her parents' passing that she's even begun to remember small things like this, small moments that she can never get back. Eustace is the only person she can think of that would understand that absence, that strange breed of regret.
But— it's not as if she did this to upset herself, or to intentionally upset him, either. There's a soft smile on her lips as she talks, as she threads her index finger through the clasp on the chain idly. ]
I can't give it to her anymore, but... I think if I had a big brother, I'd make him match with me with things like this. Right? Even if he found it embarrassing, I'd still do it. So don't even think of getting rid of it, or else.
[ She teases. Because in the end, he's missing something too, right? Misa never got to share her silly little crafts with her family, and Eustace never had a chance to receive such a thing from a family member. Misa thinks she remembers, vaguely, Eustace saying something about her and his little sister. It's sad, right? Never getting to express or receive love from people who are gone? Her hope is that this small gift can maybe, just maybe, mend a bit of that longing that will never leave them. ]
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I used to make them all the time for my friends. [ A pause, as she hesitates on what to say next. ] My mom would always say, Misa, make one of me too! ... But I never really got around to it.
[ Back then, she'd been a self-absorbed high school student, always promising that she'd one day do it, but always getting caught up in other things like exams or parties with her friends. It wasn't until being reminded so vividly of her parents' passing that she's even begun to remember small things like this, small moments that she can never get back. Eustace is the only person she can think of that would understand that absence, that strange breed of regret.
But— it's not as if she did this to upset herself, or to intentionally upset him, either. There's a soft smile on her lips as she talks, as she threads her index finger through the clasp on the chain idly. ]
I can't give it to her anymore, but... I think if I had a big brother, I'd make him match with me with things like this. Right? Even if he found it embarrassing, I'd still do it. So don't even think of getting rid of it, or else.
[ She teases. Because in the end, he's missing something too, right? Misa never got to share her silly little crafts with her family, and Eustace never had a chance to receive such a thing from a family member. Misa thinks she remembers, vaguely, Eustace saying something about her and his little sister. It's sad, right? Never getting to express or receive love from people who are gone? Her hope is that this small gift can maybe, just maybe, mend a bit of that longing that will never leave them. ]