Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

She thought she'd finally gotten herself together, but the tears came anyway-hot and heavy, spilling out everything she'd been holding back: her child, her past, her entire world.

She sniffled, voice trembling. "Uncle Rupert..."

"I'm not your Uncle Rupert," Rupert said, frowning in annoyance.

"Uncle Rupert..."

He rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alright, fine. But cut it out with the runny nose, or I can't kiss you."

"Wha-"

He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers before she could finish.

Sylvia froze, her hands instinctively rising, but he caught them, fingers lacing through hers. Her hands trembled in his.

The room was quiet, save for the soft sounds of their breathing, the whispers between their lips.

Sylvia tried to push him away, but she was too weak-she could only stare up at him, wide-eyed.

For a second, she thought she saw something flicker in his dark eyes-a hint of tenderness, gone as quickly as it appeared.

Then he pulled back just a little, voice rough. "Sylvia, who am I?"

Her mind was blank, but his name tumbled out anyway. "Rupert."

little. “That's right. Just

hands moving over her with a gentle insistence, touching every place Warren ever had, almost as if to erase every

body, cold moments

spun, and just when she thought she couldn't take it

for a moment to steady himself, then reached over and flicked on the bedside light. He picked up a bowl of oatmeal from the

favorite. You haven't eaten in days, so she and Edwin

oatmeal. She only made

mother's face, grimacing

but feel a mix

the dad jokes," she muttered. "Call me by my name," Rupert said, stirring the oatmeal. "But... you're way older than me

"Oh,

on.

when do

care

we

calls each other

out a spoonful, eyes fixed

opened her mouth, grumbling,

"You called out for me,

between them felt charged, full of unspoken

ducked her head, rubbing

then, there was a knock

called, opening her mouth

at Rupert as he fed Sylvia oatmeal like it