Shadow Of The Nightshade

Family.

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I nodded, hoping I didn't look as tense as I felt. 'Yes.'

'She's beautiful,' Canary started, closing the locket with a click.
'You look a lot like her.'

My corner of my lip quirked up.
'Did you just indirectly call me beautiful?'

That's it, act like it didn't affect you. Don't sneered.

'What if I did?' The heroine said slyly, running her thumb across the locket.

'Then I accept your complement.' I smirked.

You are pafetic you know. He said, blowing a raspberry.

'Sometimes, you are so endearing.' The heroine laughed, her voice turning somber. 'It's not hard to imagine you when you were younger, going through. . .all that.'

I frowned, relaxing into the chair. 'Did you just call me cute?'

Like that bothers you, ya limelight vampire.

'And you're ignoring the point.' She sighed.

Yes Sha-Sha, ya R ignoring the point that you are too emotionally mcfumbled to be having a conversation.

'Wouldn't you?' I asked her distractedly.

'I suppose.' She shrugged, not pursuing the idea.

I stayed silent, just looking at her.
I had to get it into my head that she wasn't who I wanted her to be. Don was right.

'When did she. . . pass away?'

I knew that she was choosing her words carefully, like I was some fragile object that could break at any moment.

But regardless, I flinched. 'Moments after my mother died.'

'I'm sorry about that, loosing family is always hard.' Black Canary said in a comforting tone.

'She was like family.' I pressed my lips into a thin line.

Was is all that'll e'er be, past.

'Was like family?' Canary mused to herself. 'She isn't your mother's sister?'

'No.' I said simply.

'How did she—' She paused, searching for words.

'She killed herself.' I rushed, not wanting to hear her finish. Not linger on her for too long.

'. . .' The counselor said nothing.

'She was from one of the families, assigned as a guard to my mother as a child, they grew up like sisters. An unbreakable bond that you can't imagine, and
my mother broke that bond to protect her, when she left Gotham. When she died, my aunt somehow knew, she walked calmly to her room, said her goodbyes to her husband and kid on the way, reached into her drawer, pulled out a gun, placed it under her chin and. . . ended it.'

Canary held her breath, I pretended I didn't notice.

Selective ignoriance she calls it, move on I keep telling her she ne'er listens though, never listens. The imaginary voice in my head ranted.