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

She tells him of Emmett again, and for a moment he’s sorry he’s forgotten. But it doesn’t settle the nerves any, not as the alcohol swims in his mind and the blight drifts to and fro. His hand leaves her shoulder and he grits his teeth, staring into the fire as well, as if it might come out of the hearth and burn everything to the ground. “Because, it’s a fucking mask.” He tells her, the blight and the alcohol making him honest as he’s ever been. “I never have my shit together, ever. I’m glad to see it’s worked.” A dry response as he shakes his head and lets his hands lace together in his lap.

He doesn’t look at her when she looks back at him, and he gnaws on his lip, swallowing hard against the scratches on his neck moving with the gesture. “I’m weak Phoebe.” His voice shakes. “I regret everything I do, whether it’s right or not. I’m not who you think I am, not who you have this picture of. I act like I have everything together when I don’t. I never have. And I can’t make decisions like that. It’s easier to stay.” Because it'll chip away at him further, and leave him a broken mess worse than he already is. And he can't deal with that and live through it all. He knows he can't.

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

SUNJATA