Pierce
She can try to peel his layers away, but she’ll find that he isn’t broken. Still the same, steadfast man she’d spent all that time with, the one they’d had all of the fun together. From the carnival to the stabby pool party, he’s still the same. Still dangerous, still deadly, but if Dahlia could fall from her rightful space? Well, so too could Pierce.
He lets her figure out her question before he tries to put words into her mouth, feeling her push against his chest not unlike how a newborn twig might brush against the ancient branch that’s been swaying for decades. “I won’t be back.” He says quietly, his voice only above a whisper, meeting her fiery blues, expressing all of the sorrow he can manage for a man who’s never felt it before in his existence.
“It’s not your fault, Thal. It’s… Here. This place. The people here.” He says, a touch stronger now as the distaste has his nose wrinkling, the frown on his face as he tries to smooth out the ruffles in her shirt caused by the earlier reprimands and the comfort that it’s his last touch. “Dahlia’s been cured and we.. She needs to be back with us. Strong like she was. And the only way we can get her back is if we leave.” He pauses, head tilting slightly as he regards her, before he leans in to press his forehead to hers in a surprisingly soft touch compared to what he was used to.
And when he pulls away its with another soft breath, regarding her face. “But.. Dorian said you could come with me, if you wanted to.” It would mean leaving everything here behind, to become one with the violet haze, but something in the Family infection that would otherwise push Thalassa into doing things he wanted, would find no root here. It’s baseline, giving her the choice without instigation or urges to lean one way or another.
It was up to her.
He lets her figure out her question before he tries to put words into her mouth, feeling her push against his chest not unlike how a newborn twig might brush against the ancient branch that’s been swaying for decades. “I won’t be back.” He says quietly, his voice only above a whisper, meeting her fiery blues, expressing all of the sorrow he can manage for a man who’s never felt it before in his existence.
“It’s not your fault, Thal. It’s… Here. This place. The people here.” He says, a touch stronger now as the distaste has his nose wrinkling, the frown on his face as he tries to smooth out the ruffles in her shirt caused by the earlier reprimands and the comfort that it’s his last touch. “Dahlia’s been cured and we.. She needs to be back with us. Strong like she was. And the only way we can get her back is if we leave.” He pauses, head tilting slightly as he regards her, before he leans in to press his forehead to hers in a surprisingly soft touch compared to what he was used to.
And when he pulls away its with another soft breath, regarding her face. “But.. Dorian said you could come with me, if you wanted to.” It would mean leaving everything here behind, to become one with the violet haze, but something in the Family infection that would otherwise push Thalassa into doing things he wanted, would find no root here. It’s baseline, giving her the choice without instigation or urges to lean one way or another.
It was up to her.
