Blighted Bars

they made a mockery of him once 'look at the walking tragedy' now they whisper when he passes

he's a demon, with a crown of blood

He doesn’t know how anyone could end up believing in him when he doesn’t even believe in himself. But he doesn’t argue. He simply nods silently in response before his thoughts grow muddled and off and he admits cards he wields close to his chest. Steel eyes drifting back towards her as the words hit, his lips forming a tight line in response. He doesn’t know the answer. Because he knows that Phoebe makes him soft, makes him similar to the boy he had once been. But Lusea, she had been there for his ‘glory days’, for his most notable achievements. For when he became who he was now.

And he shakes his head in response. “I don’t know, Phoebe.” His accented voice is almost just as hoarse. He doesn’t know why, not really anyway. “Because you were right, I am afraid to be that version of myself. With her, I don’t have to be. I’m stronger for it.” He shakes his head again, taking a step back and turning from her slightly so she doesn’t have to see his own fight with his own emotions.

“Maybe because I prefer to suffer more and more by reminding myself of the softness I have when I’m around you?” He suggests, at a loss for what else it could be.

does it look like he's still under your control?

SUNJATA