LOREN
Although Rexanna came closer physically, nothing she could do would bridge the emotional gap, breach the glacial exterior that Loren had surrounded himself with. That was because it wasn’t just his outside, but his inside, his core, his very soul that had turned to ice. So as she agreed that they weren’t friends, he just grinned savagely at her. ”Glad you finally admitted it. However, we don’t need to do anything. And I don’t want to have a few more conversations. Go home. I’m sure you have people waiting on you.” Bastien, Hotaru, Kiada, Deimos, Remi: everyone seemed to congregate around a few individuals in the Hollowed Grounds. And the Launceleyn was not one of those individuals.
He was okay with that. Everyone around here sucked—and he included himself in that category—and he had little time for any of them. Little time for anything but trying to keep them alive. Because even now, he didn't want anyone else to die. However, he didn’t care about their happiness. Not anymore. If they were in physical pain, he'd heal them. But he didn't care about their petty concerns.
At her happy laughter, he smirked. She might’ve been amused by his comment, but her reaction did nothing to move him in any sense of the word. ”No one’s good at the mental side. Some people just try harder to pretend they are.” And he, well, he’d stopped trying. Why bother, when everything within him resonated with the fact that, while he might be crazy, at least he wasn’t lying to himself or to others anymore. ”Oh, it’s how you are. No doubt about that. And some of us were born and raised to be monsters. And then we found out what happens to monsters out in the world.” They were met with fear, and anger, and suspicion, and hate, and attacks from all sides, so it was no wonder they lashed out. For a while he’d done it unintentionally, reflexively. Now, though, he’d given in to his instincts.
Let them see the Launceleyns as dragons once more. Everyone had thought Zariah was a tyrant, but thankfully for them all Loren had no interest in ruling over a broken kingdom of self-centered and short-sighted people, no interest in venturing out into the world that had rejected him time and time again. Because if he had, he’d make her look tame in comparison.
He was okay with that. Everyone around here sucked—and he included himself in that category—and he had little time for any of them. Little time for anything but trying to keep them alive. Because even now, he didn't want anyone else to die. However, he didn’t care about their happiness. Not anymore. If they were in physical pain, he'd heal them. But he didn't care about their petty concerns.
At her happy laughter, he smirked. She might’ve been amused by his comment, but her reaction did nothing to move him in any sense of the word. ”No one’s good at the mental side. Some people just try harder to pretend they are.” And he, well, he’d stopped trying. Why bother, when everything within him resonated with the fact that, while he might be crazy, at least he wasn’t lying to himself or to others anymore. ”Oh, it’s how you are. No doubt about that. And some of us were born and raised to be monsters. And then we found out what happens to monsters out in the world.” They were met with fear, and anger, and suspicion, and hate, and attacks from all sides, so it was no wonder they lashed out. For a while he’d done it unintentionally, reflexively. Now, though, he’d given in to his instincts.
Let them see the Launceleyns as dragons once more. Everyone had thought Zariah was a tyrant, but thankfully for them all Loren had no interest in ruling over a broken kingdom of self-centered and short-sighted people, no interest in venturing out into the world that had rejected him time and time again. Because if he had, he’d make her look tame in comparison.
But don’t be weary if it’s broken
Families are like that—
they’re split up and always torn.
