The smile dimmed as he considered the question, but it did not disappear.
"My grandfather did," he answered after a moment, fingers tracing absently over her stomach. "Green or blue -- I'm not sure which. I never got to know him -- he died when Joseph and I were just children -- but my mother kept a picture of her mother and father in a silver locket she wore for years. It was an old thing, just little black and white portraits of them both, but I remember his eyes."
For as little as he'd seen of the picture, his mother content to keep the locket and its contents tucked under her blouse at all times, what stuck with him was his grandfather's eyes. He liked to imagine they were electric blue for how bright they'd been in the photograph, and he wondered dimly what had happened to those portraits. His mother, after all, had sold the locket to make ends meet before he and Joseph had gone to the streets, but he doubted the pictures had gone with it. No one wanted a stranger in their jewelry and his mother had seemed so damn attached to them.
And in thinking of his mother, the smile ran away from his face in entirety now. He wet his lips again, this time in an effort to help him chose his words carefully, and pulled Lydia closer to him. "Speaking of family ... there's something I should tell you."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2010-10-12 05:56 pm (UTC)"My grandfather did," he answered after a moment, fingers tracing absently over her stomach. "Green or blue -- I'm not sure which. I never got to know him -- he died when Joseph and I were just children -- but my mother kept a picture of her mother and father in a silver locket she wore for years. It was an old thing, just little black and white portraits of them both, but I remember his eyes."
For as little as he'd seen of the picture, his mother content to keep the locket and its contents tucked under her blouse at all times, what stuck with him was his grandfather's eyes. He liked to imagine they were electric blue for how bright they'd been in the photograph, and he wondered dimly what had happened to those portraits. His mother, after all, had sold the locket to make ends meet before he and Joseph had gone to the streets, but he doubted the pictures had gone with it. No one wanted a stranger in their jewelry and his mother had seemed so damn attached to them.
And in thinking of his mother, the smile ran away from his face in entirety now. He wet his lips again, this time in an effort to help him chose his words carefully, and pulled Lydia closer to him. "Speaking of family ... there's something I should tell you."