Mother’s Day

liselletloak:

the-asari-councilor:

Sitting quietly at her desk, intent on work, Tevos does not hear her door open and close. She is quickly typing, and it is likely the tkka-tkka sound is drowning out her hearing, at least a bit. 

When she’s called, however, her eyes escape from that seemingly impossible bubble the rest of her body is stuck in. That bubble is the cloud of work always surrounding the councilor. 

“Oh, Liselle,” Tevos smiles, her slumping shoulders now straight. “How are you today?”

She surprisingly doesn’t realize what day it is, despite a general rule floating around that she needs to know each holiday, regardless of race. It’s pointless, but it makes her appear better to the general public; obviously all of whom are not asari.

She hasn’t slept in two…or three…nights, and she definitely does appear a bit disoriented, but through all her best efforts is holding herself together well. 

She stands to meet her daughter by the door.

Liselle can tell her mother’s head might not be in the right place at the moment. Distracted by work and tired doesn’t do one well, and Liselle knows her mother’s mannerisms well enough to tell when she’s not entirely there.

The matron clears her throat to keep her voice from staying at the quiet, barely audible level. “I’m good. Been running around the Citadel all day, though.” She’s wishing she had thought of getting flowers earlier. A lot of other people had had the exact same idea as her.

She rocks back and forth on her feet for a moment, wondering how to word this properly. “I’ve been told by some of my human friends that it’s Mother’s Day,” she says slowly. “So, I got you these.” She held out the flowers with a little smile. “Thought they might brighten your office a little, y’know?”

Tevos’s expression softens, taking the flowers delicately between her hands. “Liselle…you didn’t need to go through the trouble….” She mumbles quietly, looking up at her daughter with soft eyes. “This is so sweet…." 

Truthfully, these past years, she’d filtered any conception of Mother’s Day from her aching mind, as the thought brought nothing but sadness.

Even today she still does not think she deserves a gift. "How did you know I liked yellow?” She asks, in a tired, desperate attempt to cover her guilt.