I call him the devil because he makes me want to sin
The world around them goes dangerous, grow chaotic, and although he hungers for it, he is not ready to peel from her just yet. He is not ready to abandon her to the wolves. He is not ready to take the final step and bathe in her blood. So he puts a muzzle on the gnashing of his teeth, he keeps a tight grip on his own leash. Instead he redirects and funnels his energy into these final times with her. He can feel it now, the way the clock’s ticking grows more and more insistent, reminding him that he must work quickly.
The material would set soon.
He only had so much time.
He couldn’t let his father down now.
She falls away in shame and he doesn’t try to comfort her as he has these past months. He doesn’t soften as he has done so many times. Instead his eyes grow dark with rage and he begins to pull on the threads of the Fear. “I thought I could count on you,” he spits out, suddenly vicious with contempt. “I thought you were going to pull your weight. You told me so many times that you would help me put an end to him.”
He turns his head away from her, his talented fingers never stopping their constant song with the Fear, never relenting as he builds the melody, as the music of it swells within him.
“And you’ve done nothing, Lucrezia. Nothing.”
His gaze is white hot when he turns back to her, handsome face cold, disappointment clear in the angles of his features. “I don’t know why I even bother anymore when I’m doing all of this on my own.”
For a second, he lets the Fear rest, lets it idle as he takes a deep, steadying breath.
His features soften if even a little.
“Why do I keep you around?” he muses. “Why do I continue to forgive your constant failures?”
(and every time he knocks, I can't help but let him in)
@[Lucrezia]