Fearless Hearts [Ellen / Vasco blitz]

She moved without really thinking, muscle memory kicking in as dishes were cleaned and put away. Her head ached, most likely due to the fact that her night had been filled with restless sleep. Tossing and turning as she was plagued by nightmares of watching Bella die. Of waking with the feeling of her heart in her throat, or the taste of iron in my mouth.

Ceramic shatters as it strikes the ground, the plate having slipped through her fingers. "Damnit," she mutters, tossing her tea towel over the sink she bends down, picking up the sharp shards. Had her heart been an object, she would imagine it would look a lot like the shards that littered the ground. Broken.

A knock on the door Ann she drops the pieces in her hands, wiping them on the leg of her pants. Later, she thinks opening the door. She recognises the man who stands before her, the current Mayor: Vasco. With a kind greeting, package tucked under his arm, “I came to call to see if, well, I wanted to see how you were doing?”

The words I'm okay nearly slip past her lips. It was easy to tell everyone you were okay, even when you were not. "I'm- we-" she stumbles, her fingers fiddling with the loose thread at the hem of her shirt. "Would you like to come in?"

Stepping into her home he remarks about how lovely it is. Her cheeks turn rosy with embarrassment as she remembers the mess on the ground, quickly scrambling to pick up the broken pieces. He's polite enough not to comment on it, brushing it off as he speaks about his clumsiness. She listens quietly as she picks around at the mess, carefully placing the biggest shards in the rubbish. She makes a mental note to toss it out before Matthew's return.

“I wanted to give you this."

Wiping her hands on her knees she accepts the passel, "Mr Izar, you didn't need too." He explains that it is an argizaiola. Ellens brows furrow, the word familiar. Like Bella she enjoyed reading, unlike Bella she liked to educate herself on cultures and other events that used to be celebrated in this world before the world became what it is today.

"A candle board..." She says quietly, carefully unwrapping the gift. To light her path. The familiar burn at the back of her throat causes her to look away, trying to hide the fresh tears that pricked the corner of her eyes. He knew the pain she felt, he understood her. "Th-Thank you, this is a very thoughtful gift."

She holds the board tightly, tears leaking down her cheeks. "Mr Izar... if you don't mind me asking; does it get easier?"

The comfort of his hand on her shoulder, of the soothing words that escape his lips should ease the slowly leak of tears, but instead it intensifies it. She had only cried a couple times since Bella's death. She cried as she watched her daughter fall on screen before her, eyes shut as her killer laid a bouquet of flowers over her chest, hiding the patch of blood that blossomed around the hole in her heart.

She had cried as her child was buried, freshly turn dirt a symbol of Arabella's eternal rest. But since then she had felt numb. Distance between herself and Matthew growing as we both sought out ways to cope with the loss. She had wanted to be strong in the face of her districts leader, but as he spoke she felt her walls crumbling, her tears falling more freely.

"I feel like I'm drowning," she cries. "I'm fighting, fighting with all I have, but it doesn't seem to be enough..." Her voice trails off, eyes searching the ground. "I can't let her go. I- I know I should. That I have too, but I see her everywhere. In everything, and- and I can't breathe-" She cuts herself off, she shouldn't be telling him this, he didn't need to shoulder her burdens.

Everyone finds a different way to stay afloat.

But the important thing for me, was that I knew I wasn’t alone.

Not alone.

Reaching for the the corner of her apron she dabs at the tears that slide down her cheeks. He was right. She was not alone in this. She had Matthew, and instead of pushing him away she should be holding onto him tighter.

“You’re always welcome in our house, Miss Shirley, I hope you know.” Ellen matches his smile, the first genuine she had managed in weeks.

"You are very kind, Mr Izar. Your gift-" her voice catches, "I can't express just how thankful I am. Sorry for..." she trails off, not quite sure the right words to describe her grip slipping on her emotions. "As you know, all to well, losing someone so dear to the heart... I'm sure with a little more time breathing will be easier."