Can't meet the future's eyes

Emile felt... Hollow. His family had been slipping away for so long, ever since he'd been a child, they'd been leaving and he couldn't really blame them... He wouldn't want to be around him either. Lillith had been the most recent to go, not even really a word of goodbye he'd noticed that her scent was growing stale and her room was empty... He suspected Jane would probably be next. Serenity at least seemed to have truly set down her roots here but he didn't doubt that one way or another he'd be all alone. Realistic or not, those thoughts spiraled in his mind. Emile tried not to think about the future, the idea of doing so filled him with dread but as he realized he was well and truly adrift, the only tethers keeping him here severing before his eyes and he had to wonder. What did he even want? Emile wasn't certain he wanted to leave... The Hallows was the only home he'd ever had, it was the only tie he still had to the family that wasn't here anymore... It was the last place he'd seen Resin, not even alive but she'd done her best to comfort him even as the universe had decided to mark him physically for his sins...

But he was so aware of how alone he felt here. He was too afraid to reach out to his remaining sisters, so certain that that would only push along the speed at which he'd be abandoned. Bowen... Well Bowen wasn't here but they'd hardly been on good terms when she'd left and it was probably best for her to not see him ever again, he'd only hurt her. That was what he did, after all, he was a drain on everyone around him... But Emile also knew he couldn't survive on his own. He didn't have the skills he would need to leave. So where did that leave him? There was a part of him, the part that hadn't ever really left the cliff's edge, that said everyone would be better off if he was to leave, he'd not be a burden to anyone anymore, and his pain would be over soon enough... But there were parts of him that still rejected that. So instead he just remained in limbo, doing his best to poke his head out of his room regularly and put what little knowledge he had to work. But he kept his distance and didn't even try to be social. Better for everyone if he just kept his head down, did what he was best at, and otherwise stayed out of the way.

So Emile did what he'd done for so long, auto-pilot kicking in as he set about gathering up Marigold from around the castle, winter would soon be here and he wanted to save what herbs he could. The little garden on his windowsill might survive the cold, sheltered as it was from the wind and the snow but the flowers growing in the cracks of the stonework would not, and his garden would hardly be enough to sustain them through the coming season, might as well replenish his stores and start the process of preserving the flowers for the coming chill.

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