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ASHE
he was something solid to lean against.
Her triumph inflated in her chest, but she didn't loosen her hold on him. It wasn't until their Master approached that she finally looked up, her blood suddenly feeling hot as her skin grew cold. Ashe didn't dare move, hardly dared to breathe as he looked down at them. No indication of approval or pride, nothing from the man that ruled their every breath. Only an impersonal dismissal, orders to clean themselves up.
Once in the corridor with no peering eyes to see them, Ashe quickly removed her suffocating mask and let cool air kiss her skin. She hated the fucking thing, but it was necessary. How else would she be able to stroll about the capital as she pleased if not for her identity being concealed? Ashe was just behind Kalt, and she watched as he supported himself upon the wall, his blood quickly becoming a large stain over his side. Her own hand was pressed against her stomach that bled openly, and while it needed stitching, she had done much worse damage to her counterpart. She didn't let the guilt creep in, or the worry, not now. He would be healed and he would have a new scar, and he wa as fine. They couldn't afford to wallow in guilt and apologies every time they had to hurt each other - if they did, they both would have surely lost their minds by now. With her heart still racing, Ashe halted beside Kalt and smirked wickedly up at him. ”And you nearly gutted me, fucking prick,” she shot back, fire-blue eyes dancing. ”Guess you should have been quicker than that, silver. Should I start going easier on you?” Her smirk turned sharp, unable to stop the snarky remarks falling from her lips, even through breath that was ragged with exhaustion and distant pain. something violent and fierce and unmoving |
