Aeliana
"I—I..." I stammered, at a loss for words.
"Do you think my mother's hands are something to be ashamed of?" August snarled with rage.
"N-no, I—"
"Are you so disgusted by her hands that you insist on them being covered up?" He shouted, gaining momentum. "Are your fragile sensitives so upset by the mere presence of them that you—"
"August Michael, you stop speaking this instant!" Violet cried out. "Leave this house. Now."
"But—"
"Now."
August gave me one final glare before stomping out of the house, his unfinished bowl of stew clattering loudly when he threw it in the dish tub.
I started breathing hard and fast. "I'm so s-sorry," I gasped, the shock starting to wear off from the incident. "I-I didn't mean to offend you. I only wanted to help you take care of your hands."
Vi
