i'm a lost cause, do it the way I want
He doesn’t stop walking, not right away. Just shifts the card once more between his fingers, his steps carving a quiet line through the hedge-woven dark. But his focus has already turned inward — not to himself, but to the echo trailing behind him. The molten tiger slinks through the maze like she believes in her own myth — that fire can hide her, that hunger makes her something new. But Vesper’s never needed to see her to know her. The shadows curl at the edge of her thoughts like they remember the shape of her rage. And gods, it’s so loud. That bruised pride still aching where he’d cut her last, that reluctant curl of shame tucked behind the teeth. The way even now she pretends she’s only hunting—not bleeding. Not mourning.
And of course, the hollow ache she thinks is buried. He brushes past it like one might a broken bottle in the street: with care, and disgust. A huff escapes him — soft, humourless. "You’ve seen a few of my talents," he calls idly over his shoulder, tone bone-dry. "But darlin'—" He turns the card one final time and vanishes mid-step. A flicker of shadow. A breath caught between heartbeats. And then— He’s there. Right in front of her. One boot crunching softly in the grass. The card slipping neatly back into his coat. His expression is unreadable, carved in moonlight and restraint, but his voice, when it comes, is low and deliberate.
"—I didn’t show you all of ‘em. Call it a demigod thing, but you can't hide in the shadows from someone like me."
And of course, the hollow ache she thinks is buried. He brushes past it like one might a broken bottle in the street: with care, and disgust. A huff escapes him — soft, humourless. "You’ve seen a few of my talents," he calls idly over his shoulder, tone bone-dry. "But darlin'—" He turns the card one final time and vanishes mid-step. A flicker of shadow. A breath caught between heartbeats. And then— He’s there. Right in front of her. One boot crunching softly in the grass. The card slipping neatly back into his coat. His expression is unreadable, carved in moonlight and restraint, but his voice, when it comes, is low and deliberate.
"—I didn’t show you all of ‘em. Call it a demigod thing, but you can't hide in the shadows from someone like me."
