Family {Drabble}

This takes place at the night of the 'engagement' party. After everybody's gone home (or stayed at Lingersheen Manor, doesn't really matter for the story), Chelsea retired to her own quarters...

She was sitting on the windowsill, staring out over the woods on the grounds. So many things had changed those hundred years. She sat curled up, with a beaker of milk in her frail hands. The emerald ring with the multi-colored band laid on her nightstand, beside the recently obtained one. It looked suspiciously like the infamous 'chalk emerald ring', but Chelsea thought it was sweet, and she made no objections. She let out a quiet sigh, fogging the window.
'I don't know why she even bothers about Will' they'd said. She didn't really knew the answer herself, to be honest.
"Perhaps" she said softly, "perhaps because we are some sort of family." It made sense in her eyes, if she thought about it. If you live with the same people for more than hundred years, you would certainly become like a family, right? She didn't know for sure; she never had any sort of family to rely on. She stretched her back as she rose to her feet. She quietly trailed up to the attic, remembering the brief conversation with Will as she found a canvas. Yes, they must be a family. Than...Eric would be the bad boy, the big brother that didn't really behave himself. She smiled to herself. That would make Alan the...well, her uncle, or something. No, her brother-in-law, since it would be a bit gross. And Ronald the older brother, or something like that. The one of her age. And Grell...well, the brother (or sister) between it. And, and the Undertaker like the strange uncle living outside of England, the one who was part of the family, even if he was strange. The lines and colors of the painting would become more clear and clear by the second as she decided who played what role in this..family. One last person...And that would be Will. Her hand stopped moving as she pondered about his part.
"Something like a father..." she decided quietly. Not that she had ever had one, and she couldn't compare him. "No, that's not right. Will is just...a Will." She finished the piece. It was blurry and very sloppy, but she decided she would give it a place somewhere in her studio. She yawned.
"Milady, you should be in bed." She turned around to face Andrew, his hand on his heart. She smiled.
"I think I am old enough to decide, but I appreciate your concern" she told him. He nodded as she covered the piece with some fabric, before walking down the stairs again.

Yes, they were a family. You didn't ask for them, but they were there if you needed them. Even if they were a little, dysfunctional family.

Just a little piece I wanted to write, since it has been in my head awhile, and since I think it fits in the light of recent events. I wanted to explain why Chelsea finds their opinion so pretty damn important.