"Well, your father still hates me. And I despise him. Is that going to be a problem?"
She glances up at him. "Learn to live with him for my sake."
Tristan scowled. "I've only just met you and now you want me to forget everything he's done to me? That's not going to happen."
"i never daid taht," she countered back. Calming herself she closed her eyes. "Just... learn to respect him. He will see it in you and maybe he will find himself willing enough to ask for forgiveness...."
"I can't respect him," Tristan spat. "I'd sooner die at the hands of a monster."
She pressed her lips in. "We'll see...," she whispered faintly, curling up into his side.
"There's no we'll see about it," he replied, pushing himself away. "At the moment I only tolerate him because he lets me do what I was born to do."
She frowned at him and stood up. "I admit what he did was wrong, Tristan. And I am not forcing you to be friends with him. I want to see you heal...."
"Heal? I don't need to heal," Tristan growled. "I'm fine and I will always be fine."
She narrowed her eyes at him and scowled, stomping from the room. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, honey!" She called back, slamming the bathroom door shut.
Tristan gave a humourless laugh and sunk lower into the sofa. She didn't know the half of it.
Now she really wanted to leave. She sank to the bathroom floor, completely silent for a time. Soon enough, she stifled a sob with her hands, tugging back tears.
Tristan closed his eyes as he heard her stifled sob. He refused to let himself feel guilty though; he didn't need someone coming into his life and trying to fix him and she needed to know that.
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