I tried to sell my soul last night
Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite
In their time apart, she seems to have lost something more than just her eyes. Something deeper and far more important. And for a moment, he almost gives in to the urge to ask. Which is really fucking dumb, isn’t it? Even if she wanted to share, there’s no way in hell she’d want to share it with him. Not after he’d so thoroughly burned whatever bridges had been left between them.
And it was better that he had. Wasn’t it?
Didn’t matter, because it was too damned late anyway. Always too damned late.
“Well that was stupid of them,” he replies gruffly, suddenly regretting his flippant comment. He’d expected something equally flippant in return, and the fact that she hadn’t given it tells him far more than he wanted to know. Fucking hell, he should have known better than to give in to the curiosity. Should’ve known better than to believe he could keep pretending he didn’t give a damn when faced with the obvious evidence of her pain.
He doesn’t reply immediately to her question. Mostly because he doesn’t fucking know how. Where had he gone? Even he’s not entirely certain. Away. Seeking something, anything, that might help him forget that, for a brief moment, he’d glimpsed something more than the yawning abyss of an endless life. To forget how tempting that was, even though he knew it couldn’t be real.
Instead he snorts and offers her a shrug, despite knowing she can’t see it. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
For a long moment, he simply stares at her. The unaffected blankness of her stone gaze needles something deep inside him. Something he shouldn’t touch. But we all know he can’t leave well enough alone. Or keep his damned mouth shut apparently.
“Why the hell do you care anyway?”
