What the #?*!

He didn’t hear her come in, the silent steps so normal for the two of them even in a dead run. He remained frozen where he was, eyes locked on nothing, as his fists planted firmly on the counter. His breathing was ragged, unsteady, as his racing heart was barely contained in his chest. His eyes flicked just for a split second to the woman, returning to the empty stare without any further acknowledgement.       Every muscle in Kalt’s body instantly tensed when her hand touched his shoulder, and it took everything in him not to flinch away, not to rip away from the slightest touch. He didn’t want to be touched, didn’t want any kind of contact with another person, regardless of who they were. He wasn’t okay, wasn’t grounded, wasn’t focused. His knuckles meeting brick hadn’t done shit for him, even escaping his mind briefly after it happened. He mentally mapped where his knives were, not paying attention to Ashe’s hand moving carefully down his arm. His mind tried to believe her fingers were made of blades, cutting into his skin, and gods, he fucking wished they were... He wondered if he could push her aside with enough time to get hold of his knives, but knew it was futile.       Her hand touched his face, and it took a moment before he cooperated with her encouraging him to look her way. His eyes refused to listen, though. When he met her gaze, the crystal clarity his eyes normally held had vanished, replaced by an icy glare in which she would recognize a hunger for bloody violence and a need for emptiness in a mind far too loud for him to comprehend.       ”What happened?” He repeated after her, a shakiness to his voice that he hated himself for. ”Saw someone today on my way here.” Kalt tore his hand away from Ashetta and stepped around her, his jaw feathering and lip twitching just slightly. ”Alistair.” His eyes remained locked on her. ”And guess what? He’s been accessorizing.”       Once again, he went fishing in the cabinet and pulled out another bottle of liquor that he - once again - used magic to make stronger. Kalt took a breath and took a long drink from it, pressing his lips together. He couldn’t think straight, couldn’t form a solid train of thought no matter how hard he tried.       ”Tell me, Ashe,” he said, slamming the bottle on the counter and gritting his teeth, as his gaze returned to her, feral and clearly itching for an outlet to the rage boiling inside of him. ”Why the fuck is your ex-husband wearing a mask?” Kalt I  am flesh and I am bone, i rise up, ting ting, like glitter and gold i've got fire in my soul