[The hug catches Rose uncharacteristically off-guard. She knows that Roxy is far from unintelligent, that she must have already realized how her daughter has gotten older and a multitude of other things that mothers always know regardless of circumstance. Perhaps an embrace such as this should have been expected, logically, but it's hard enough to process Mom being alive without having taken into account the possibility of any blatant physical affection.
So she stiffens against her mother's chest, surprised, for one frozen moment. Rose lifts her own arms hesitantly, almost mechanically--and then abruptly shoves her doubts under a mental blanket, and squeezes back just as tight. She buries her face in her mother's neck, surprised at how much shorter she seems now, and is assaulted by old, familiar scents hitting her like blows: vodka and perfume and Mom. She can't remember the last time she hugged her mother back: from the onset of rebellious preteen angst until the day Mom died, she had never thought she'd have a reason to want to.
Realizing that her mother is close to tears, Rose nearly can't control herself. But she's had plenty of occasions over the past few years where she's wanted to cry and didn't, and this is no exception. Instead she swallows hard and murmurs almost inaudibly, for once without her usual verbosity.]
let's just pretend kanaya = roxy because i don't have any mom&rose icons sobs
So she stiffens against her mother's chest, surprised, for one frozen moment. Rose lifts her own arms hesitantly, almost mechanically--and then abruptly shoves her doubts under a mental blanket, and squeezes back just as tight. She buries her face in her mother's neck, surprised at how much shorter she seems now, and is assaulted by old, familiar scents hitting her like blows: vodka and perfume and Mom. She can't remember the last time she hugged her mother back: from the onset of rebellious preteen angst until the day Mom died, she had never thought she'd have a reason to want to.
Realizing that her mother is close to tears, Rose nearly can't control herself. But she's had plenty of occasions over the past few years where she's wanted to cry and didn't, and this is no exception. Instead she swallows hard and murmurs almost inaudibly, for once without her usual verbosity.]
No, I am.