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

Oh two can certainly play at that. He listens to her claims, and laughs at the implications. No, she hadn’t done any of those things. She had chipped away at him, made him easily molded, to be folded and shaped into what she wanted him to be. And all he does for the moment is smile through it, for the moment, until he hears the next set of words and of being scared, and the smile falters. As if he’s coming to his senses, the blight shifts and releases a hold — like the time Phoebe had slapped him after growing angry. And he takes a moment to inhale deeply before slipping away from the bars, closing his eyes and pressing into them with the heels of his shaking hands.

He hears her break and he bites down on his lower lip, stepping away until he’s nearly a shadow down the hall. She’s right, and he hates himself for admitting it. He’d rather keep them closely guarded. But he manages to capture a guards attention, bringing the man back to unlock the cell and slide the bars open. He waits by the edge of the cell in the hallway, soft sorrow lacing his eyes. “I’m sorry.” He tells her quietly. “Let’s get you home.” It’s almost a whisper.

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

SUNJATA