Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
Her bad feeling proved well founded. With a sinking feeling Maea watched Asta smile and charm his way past the guards and into an adjacent room. Shifting position to another window, she watched with increasing worry how her friend - the confessed cannibal, the same person who had just saved her from a terrible experience and tucked her in like they were actual family - reached for a knife. Getting tired of my own words
Clapping a hand over her mouth to suppress a cry as the blade was flung at the man, her stomach roiled as the saw the way Asta acted. This was more than just interrogation; more than punishment or simple duty. He was enjoying it. The blood, the pain - she couldn't hear anything but there was no mistaking the screams that had to be tearing up the man's throat, nor the fear in his eyes.
It was awful. Horrifying beyond words. She had to stop it, stop him - and yet, she couldn't bring herself to move a muscle. Transfixed, she stared at the scene as it unfolded, unable to look away.
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts
through the loudness of my own hurts
base inspired by Odd <3
