you can either run from it

"And so he returns," a snarky little voice would sound from behind Albion. The lake was Scylla's favorite place in Elysium, no matter the season. She frequented the place almost daily unless there was some pressing business to attend to. The marbled woman was there when her brother arrived, resting on a flat stone that hung out over the placid water. Mismatched eyes watched him as he seated himself, his demeanor one of discontent. Served him right, she thought. He'd left without warning and returned just the same.

Sliding down from her perch, Scylla approached her brother. Her brow was furrowed as she stood before him. "I'm upset with you, you know." Hypocrite. Had she not done the same to them when their father fell ill? If he didn't bring it up, she wouldn't remind him. It was better to ignore it and let him feel bad for a moment. He deserved to feel bad. Internally, Scylla was pouting. He hadn't cared enough to even say goodbye to her. He had a lot of making up to do.

"Scylla"