[When you are eight years apart, your older sibling exists as the sum total of the world itself. They know everything, they can do anything, and they are less a sibling and more a minor deity that blesses your life whenever they choose to spend time with you. That is how life was for Amane with her sister. She followed her around everywhere and was never treated like a pain for it , always listened and believed whatever she had to say, was happy to do what she wanted, because she was always right and treated her with such tender love and care. Never in her childhood can she think of her sister ever doing her wrong, and if she did, it certainly never lasted long at all.
Yes, when you are eight years apart, you can proudly spout the knowledge and secrets your big sister tells you to the admiration and shining eyes of other kids, but it also means you are left behind a lot sooner; Camilla had lived some of her life without Amane in it. Amane had always had her older sister in hers.
Until she hadn't.
All too soon for her liking, Camilla was an adult when Amane hit double digits, she found her footing in life when Amane was only hitting puberty, and by the time she was well into high school, Camilla was incredibly successful, and on her own merits. The age gap never changed, but the distance certainly did.
Certainly, they came from money and she was not so naive to be blind to its advantages, but her sister, for all that she could be doting and sweet, was a force to be reckoned with. Competent, capable, determined, and hardworking, possessed of a keen mind and an unyielding will. Her sister was or had all of those and many more. It was what she loved about her and aspired to be, herself.
It, in turn, placed much more pressure on Amane to perform well, sometimes better, because excellence can only be companion to excellence, and when one is used to staring and high bars, especially as working standards, very good work starts to look less impressive after a while. High expectations become regular expecations. She manages to meet these extolling demands swimmingly, but it never ends. Even if this is her new normal, there is a fear inside that she can never shake. It only grows and festers putridly.
Not enough.
Nothing she ever does is good enough, and when she is seldom praised, it only exacerbates her worries, but not once, not a single time has she ever spared a single resentful thought for her sister. All she wants is to be like her, even if she can never truly hope for such a pipe dream. All she can hope to do is stare at her sister's back, well out of her reach, in more than one way.
Soon...her sister could leave the estate if she wanted to and she would never have to return if she did not. The thought turns sourly in her stomach, but she suppresses it.
For now, Amane knocks on her sister's door, a tray in hand.]
[Camilla was of two worlds. She hated and she loved her family. Her family was intense, well-bred, and an example of excellence. She had grown up knowing she needed to extol those virtues. Often times, she felt more like a symbol than a daughter. Still, she performed dutifully. She assumed there was some failing in herself and eventually that love depicted in fairy tales would come true.]
[Not a love for a prince but a love for family.]
[She still remembers the first time she saw Amane. It had been the moment of her greatest joy and deepest despair. After all, Amane had helped her realize two things. Firstly, she had the capacity for such love inside her in the first place, and secondly, that there was no love to be found from their parents. It wasn't her, it wasn't Amane, it was this family that was devoid of love.]
[She knew she wanted to leave eventually. Even if she never said it, that undercurrent could be felt by the people closest to her.]
[It was Amane that gave her the strength to think like that.]
[She's taking a break from her studies, stitching very carefully to make a monogrammed handkerchief. The "C" for her own name is coming along nicely. After that, she'll add the "A." She hears the knock and immediately a warmness comes to her face when she hears who it is.]
Of course, darling. I always have a moment for you. [Of course, the times Amane actually asked for them was less than the moments she would actually give. She maintained the persona she needed to have as the eldest daughter. Her mental priorities, though, would always come to her little sister first.]
Come in, come in, let me see you. [because it was never enough to see her in the cold family situations.]
[She pauses a moment before she collects herself. Many things stay her from moving, but the fact that she will be in her sister's presence often does the trick as well as hearing her so casually affectionate. To be clear, it is not an unusual thing for Camilla to do so, far from it, it is quite expected, but living at home as Amane does where attention is rare, praise is scarce, and overt love non-existent, she finds herself caught off-guard to be given any of it handily by someone else.
But she is nothing if not adaptable and she adjusts.
Hoisting up the tray higher, Amane carefully opens the door.
She comes bearing gifts of freshly baked goods and tea, all done by her, but she does not offer that information. It's useless and insignificant.]
I...thought perhaps you might be feeling a little peckish.
[The affection could be their little secret. She maintained a bit more of a cold demeanor outside. She was expected to be professional, after all. That cold really only got to lukewarm around her younger sister, though. In the privacy of her own room, though, there wasn't anything to fear.]
Ah, what perfect timing! I was just thinking of taking a break. [It wasn't a lie. The second she heard it was Amane she started thinking of taking a break. The handkerchief is set down on the desk to make way for the tray.]
You're not too busy, are you, sweetie? Come and sit down with me. [She was in the elegant but functional desk chair and there was the more comfortable reading chair nearby. She motions to it. Of course, Amane could have the more cozy place. She left the out for if Amane had other responsibilities to deal with but... of course, she wanted her to stay here, more.]
No...no, I am not. [She could never be too busy for Camilla. She longed to be in her presence far more often, but she worried about being a nuisance in spite of her warm welcomes.
Amane takes a moment to simply...take the sight of her in. She looks so soft and sweet as she does her sewing. It's often such a far cry from the sister she knows she must be, but she's glad she gets to see it. Her sister needs to enjoy herself for her own sake more, even if Amane thinks she's beautiful as a serious force t be reckoned with.
She sits down in the offered chair after a moment of hesitation, having placed the tray down.]
Hm? [She acts like the question has entirely caught her off guard. After all, she has almost everything she wants right within the confines of this room. It's hard to imagine being so starved for comfort that she'd deny her sweet little sister.]
I have everything I could possibly need, don't I?
[She nibbles on a shortbread cookie, delighted by how it almost melts in her mouth. It was certainly made with love. She'd tasted so many delicacies but anything Amane made would certainly be better, to her. And just just because Amane worked so hard to make them perfect.]
I'm very comfortable, Amane. Here, here, share with me. These are delightful.
[She could praise Amane's cooking without necessarily saying it was hers. It was the truth, after all. Camilla offers a cookie, very clearly expecting Amane to pluck it from her hand with her lips.]
[She wonders if her sister knows she made them or not, but it almost doesn't matter, because warmth and colour touches her cheeks at hearing her praise.
Everything Camilla does seems so effortlessly graceful and perfect...Amane is always looking to her as her role model, and when she takes a bite of that cookie, she watches her sister not spill a single crumb in spite of the crumbly nature of shortbread.
She...has a beautiful mouth, now that she's paying attention, but of course, she does--all of her is beautiful--but her mouth is lush and full, lovely for smiling, wonderful for kissing. She very rarely asks for the latter--she barely has to--but her sister's kisses are always so warm and soft...
Where was she, ah yes. Oh! Camilla offers her a cookie and while Amane would prefer t accept it more gracefully under other circumstances, it's also food? It's food. Few things make her...not forget herself entirely, but become laxer, and food is one of them. She isn't about to fuss about eating one cookie like this, and she bends over to take it away with her teeth.]
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Yes, when you are eight years apart, you can proudly spout the knowledge and secrets your big sister tells you to the admiration and shining eyes of other kids, but it also means you are left behind a lot sooner; Camilla had lived some of her life without Amane in it. Amane had always had her older sister in hers.
Until she hadn't.
All too soon for her liking, Camilla was an adult when Amane hit double digits, she found her footing in life when Amane was only hitting puberty, and by the time she was well into high school, Camilla was incredibly successful, and on her own merits. The age gap never changed, but the distance certainly did.
Certainly, they came from money and she was not so naive to be blind to its advantages, but her sister, for all that she could be doting and sweet, was a force to be reckoned with. Competent, capable, determined, and hardworking, possessed of a keen mind and an unyielding will. Her sister was or had all of those and many more. It was what she loved about her and aspired to be, herself.
It, in turn, placed much more pressure on Amane to perform well, sometimes better, because excellence can only be companion to excellence, and when one is used to staring and high bars, especially as working standards, very good work starts to look less impressive after a while. High expectations become regular expecations. She manages to meet these extolling demands swimmingly, but it never ends. Even if this is her new normal, there is a fear inside that she can never shake. It only grows and festers putridly.
Not enough.
Nothing she ever does is good enough, and when she is seldom praised, it only exacerbates her worries, but not once, not a single time has she ever spared a single resentful thought for her sister. All she wants is to be like her, even if she can never truly hope for such a pipe dream. All she can hope to do is stare at her sister's back, well out of her reach, in more than one way.
Soon...her sister could leave the estate if she wanted to and she would never have to return if she did not. The thought turns sourly in her stomach, but she suppresses it.
For now, Amane knocks on her sister's door, a tray in hand.]
Sister...do you have a moment?
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[Not a love for a prince but a love for family.]
[She still remembers the first time she saw Amane. It had been the moment of her greatest joy and deepest despair. After all, Amane had helped her realize two things. Firstly, she had the capacity for such love inside her in the first place, and secondly, that there was no love to be found from their parents. It wasn't her, it wasn't Amane, it was this family that was devoid of love.]
[She knew she wanted to leave eventually. Even if she never said it, that undercurrent could be felt by the people closest to her.]
[It was Amane that gave her the strength to think like that.]
[She's taking a break from her studies, stitching very carefully to make a monogrammed handkerchief. The "C" for her own name is coming along nicely. After that, she'll add the "A." She hears the knock and immediately a warmness comes to her face when she hears who it is.]
Of course, darling. I always have a moment for you. [Of course, the times Amane actually asked for them was less than the moments she would actually give. She maintained the persona she needed to have as the eldest daughter. Her mental priorities, though, would always come to her little sister first.]
Come in, come in, let me see you. [because it was never enough to see her in the cold family situations.]
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But she is nothing if not adaptable and she adjusts.
Hoisting up the tray higher, Amane carefully opens the door.
She comes bearing gifts of freshly baked goods and tea, all done by her, but she does not offer that information. It's useless and insignificant.]
I...thought perhaps you might be feeling a little peckish.
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Ah, what perfect timing! I was just thinking of taking a break. [It wasn't a lie. The second she heard it was Amane she started thinking of taking a break. The handkerchief is set down on the desk to make way for the tray.]
You're not too busy, are you, sweetie? Come and sit down with me. [She was in the elegant but functional desk chair and there was the more comfortable reading chair nearby. She motions to it. Of course, Amane could have the more cozy place. She left the out for if Amane had other responsibilities to deal with but... of course, she wanted her to stay here, more.]
no subject
Amane takes a moment to simply...take the sight of her in. She looks so soft and sweet as she does her sewing. It's often such a far cry from the sister she knows she must be, but she's glad she gets to see it. Her sister needs to enjoy herself for her own sake more, even if Amane thinks she's beautiful as a serious force t be reckoned with.
She sits down in the offered chair after a moment of hesitation, having placed the tray down.]
Are you certain you do not wish to have this?
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I have everything I could possibly need, don't I?
[She nibbles on a shortbread cookie, delighted by how it almost melts in her mouth. It was certainly made with love. She'd tasted so many delicacies but anything Amane made would certainly be better, to her. And just just because Amane worked so hard to make them perfect.]
I'm very comfortable, Amane. Here, here, share with me. These are delightful.
[She could praise Amane's cooking without necessarily saying it was hers. It was the truth, after all. Camilla offers a cookie, very clearly expecting Amane to pluck it from her hand with her lips.]
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[She wonders if her sister knows she made them or not, but it almost doesn't matter, because warmth and colour touches her cheeks at hearing her praise.
Everything Camilla does seems so effortlessly graceful and perfect...Amane is always looking to her as her role model, and when she takes a bite of that cookie, she watches her sister not spill a single crumb in spite of the crumbly nature of shortbread.
She...has a beautiful mouth, now that she's paying attention, but of course, she does--all of her is beautiful--but her mouth is lush and full, lovely for smiling, wonderful for kissing. She very rarely asks for the latter--she barely has to--but her sister's kisses are always so warm and soft...
Where was she, ah yes. Oh! Camilla offers her a cookie and while Amane would prefer t accept it more gracefully under other circumstances, it's also food? It's food. Few things make her...not forget herself entirely, but become laxer, and food is one of them. She isn't about to fuss about eating one cookie like this, and she bends over to take it away with her teeth.]