When old lives die

by LouiseWolff

She's skin stretched over steel. Even her eyes, once so eager and alive, are now cold and hard. She's all metal. Nicked, scratched, bent and broken steel, mechanic. She's alive till the sun sets, dead when the moon rises. (Sam's musings post-Yamatai.)

12. Sandwiches

Lara refused to use her family's money to rent an apartment, so we went to the only place we could. The Croft manor.

The mansion is entirely too big for three people. It feels so empty and cold. At least Winston, that lovely old goat, tries to make the place as welcoming as possible.

He talks to Lara as if nothing happened, even though she mostly ignores him. He stays polite, never gets angry, seems to know exactly what to say to her. I know she's denying it to even herself, but that look on her face when she turns and leaves... That look of bittersweet melancholy tells me that she enjoys his presence.

I make sure to thank him for her, and he always smiles and nods.

"I know. She's always been stubborn, that girl." He then gives me one of those piercing looks, one that does not match his age. "You're helping her, you are. More than you think."

I think that's old-butler-speak for "You are the most awesome girl on this planet Sam Nishimura!"

I want to hug him, but I'm afraid I'll crack his ribs and make him drop the platter of godly peanut butter jelly sandwiches.