Twinned Flame

Aftermath

As Braxton continued to prattle on after making Sylvie bow before the crowd, he tossed her to the side for Hugo to catch. Hugo quickly caught her and led her off the podium and out of the stadium.

"Are you alright?" he asked as they approached his car. Sylvie still had her head down, and he bent to try and get a view of her face.

"Sylvie, you can speak," he said with a soft sigh, grabbing her chin to try and get her to look at him. She pulled her head away and kept looking down. Hugo frowned, guiding her into the passenger seat before moving to the drivers.

"I'll come and collect your equipment and bike later," he said as he pulled out of the lot and turned onto the road leading to her cabin.

"Is it true?" she asked, drawing his attention. He glanced at her.

"What?" he asked. She looked at him, and he almost slammed on the breaks when he saw her. Her face was bruised, her left eye swollen shut, lip split, and dried blood crusted from her nose. She had a small cut on her cheek and she looked pathetic and broken.

"Am I part of the pack?" Hugo couldn't stop himself from anxiously biting his lip. Who knew Dax would never really let her join the pack. She wasn't useful to him after the war like he had originally hoped. Instead, she was wolf-less, and unfavorable. Braxton can give her a false sense of pack familiarity, but I'd be in name only. No one would allow her to link with them.

Hugo sighed as he pulled up to her cabin. A cabin he built with his bare hands all those years ago when he assumed responsibility for her. A small two-story cabin, the bottom floor was a single kitchen, bathroom, and living space that could fit in any room of the main pack house. Upstairs was her bedroom, which made up most of the kitchen's roof, including the stairs. It was small, shabby even, and it filled him with regret.

He got out of the car, walked over to the passenger door and opened it for her. He offered her his hand, and she accepted it, using it to guide her way out of the car.

"Sylvie," Hugo began, trying to choose the words as carefully as he could. She chuckled, walking past and opening the door to step inside.

"I know," she said as he followed her. She walked the few feet into the kitchen and rummaged through a basket of herbs next to her kitchen sink. She pulled out a couple of flowers that looked like yellow daisies. Hugo watched her grab a mortar and pestle and start grinding the flower petals.

"What's that?" he asked, stepping fully inside and closing the door. She didn't look up at him, instead continued to grind the petals into a paste.

"Arnica," she said, "It'll help with the swelling." Hugo took a seat in the rickety chair and watched as she turned the petals into a paste, then squeezed out the liquid with a cloth.

"Can you snap a piece of frond from the aloe please?" Sylvie asked, motioning to a planter by the window beside him. He obliged, finding the spiky plant easy to break. He walked over and handed it to her. She wasted no time in wiping the frond down and cutting it in half to get the gel inside. She mixed the flower petal liquid and the gel together, then poured it into a small jar. She took some of the finished product and rubbed it gently rubbed it around her eyes, mindful of the open cut.

"All this is from the book I bought you all those years ago, isn't it?" Hugo asked, watching as she got a clean cloth to dab at her cuts before grabbing another plant from the basket.

"Yes, when I first started it was very difficult. Luckily, most of the injuries were superficial," she admitted,

"But I still like to keep a lot close by in case training gets too heated." Hugo watched her work in silence sadly, she was truly exceptional in everything she put her mind to.

"You know," Hugo said, clearing his throat,

"With Braxton's declaration, you could start seeing the pack doctor." Sylvie looked up at him, truly looked at him today. He was sitting almost hunched on the chair, his chestnut brown hair looking dusted with ash as his greys now blended in. His honeyed eyes complemented the toffee tone of his skin. He normally didn't look 57, but today, the exhaustion had him looking his age. Sylvie frowned at him, almost feeling sorry. He was trying to make her feel better, make her feel like today went exactly how it was supposed to. She put her herbs away, cleaning up the small mess on the little island counter the space of her cabin alloted.

"Hugo," she said, taking a deep breath, holding it before releasing it evenly.

"I hope you know," she paused again, wanting to find the comforting words she owes her mentor for the actions of today.

"That I appreciate everything you've done for me," she said, almost regretful that that was all she could say.

"You've done more for me than even allowed," she added, walking over to stand in front of him. He looked down at her, not seeing the woman before him, but the child he raised. The little girl who bounced around his feet every time he came to visit. The girl who smiled and laughed even when he knew she had been crying only moments before. A child, lost and tossed aside but refusing to allow that to define her. She threw her arms around him, burrowing her face into his chest. He was surprised, she hadn't done this in so long.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Hugo stood for a moment before finally wrapping his arms around her in a gentle hug. She accepted it, tears she held onto spilling out onto his tank top. Hugo rubbed her back softly in comfort, feeling her shaking in his arms. He held her closer, cupping her head to hold her.

"You're the only daughter I could have ever wanted to raise," he whispered into her hair. Sylvie gripped his shirt tightly, afraid the universe she felt was so against her would swallow him up and take him away forever. She cried. Letting the hurt, anger, and frustration go with each tear. Hugo held her, softly rubbing her back for what felt like hours. The two of them were standing in the small space of her cabin, letting this moment be their apologies and forgiveness.

When Sylvie's tears finally stilled, she then pulled herself away. The sun was now setting casting soft rays in through the window. The light streaked across Hugo's face, softening his gaze at her even more. She sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. Hugo smiled.

"Please get some rest. I don't expect you at training tomorrow," Hugo said. Sylvie nodded. Hugo's smile faltered at her pathetic look, so he opted to gently pat her head.

"Goodnight Sylvie," Hugo said. Walking to the door, he turned to look at her one more time. She stood there unmoving, looking at him with a small sad smile. He nodded at her before finally stepping out with a soft click of the door. Sylvie watched him pass by the window as she had done this morning, watching until he was in his car and driving out of view. The silence he now left behind left her feeling more alone than usual. She sighed to herself, wiping her face, wincing at the still swollen eye, a pressing reminder that today still happened. She hissed at the pain, turning to go and shower, wanting the warm water to wash away the bitter remnants.