If I hold up hell, will you take the blame?
Put the devil’s tongue on my middle name
Put the devil’s tongue on my middle name
Margot bangs her hands against the tray, refusing to be ignored any longer and Cordelia's composure falters. She flinches at the sudden sound, drawing a shaky breath before gently picking her daughter up, a hand braced against her as she holds her in her lap. The slip on her control is enough for the bond to open up, finally letting him back in, his words shouted in her mind as she swallows thickly.
Her eyes fall to the table top, unable to look at him as she processes his words, his emotions. Licking her lips before speaking, Cordelia says, "I just wish you wouldn't keep things from me, Noah... Whether I can handle them or not. We don't do secrets in this house. We promised." When things had been so unsure. When they had been exiled to the Wilds. They had vowed it. There would be no secrets. They couldn't survive if there were.
Yet, he kept secret after secret. He hid things from her in the name of protection. Look where that got them.
Her eyes fall to the table top, unable to look at him as she processes his words, his emotions. Licking her lips before speaking, Cordelia says, "I just wish you wouldn't keep things from me, Noah... Whether I can handle them or not. We don't do secrets in this house. We promised." When things had been so unsure. When they had been exiled to the Wilds. They had vowed it. There would be no secrets. They couldn't survive if there were.
Yet, he kept secret after secret. He hid things from her in the name of protection. Look where that got them.
Cordelia
