Honey, these arms that once held you are ready to fight
"I don't know, but I'm willing to try," she retorts, frustration furrowing her brow and pulling at her lips. And he's right, unfortunately - Hotaru has never been a savior. A role far too intimate, too morally right, for someone like her. But Gods, she would try for him. He has ruined her in so many ways, good and bad, and she feels impotent with the storm of emotion that brews in a chest too small to contain it. "Do I look like a queen anymore?" Her voice is soft for the first time since the sparks started flying. What use is she, really? If he has no faith in her, what more can she offer?
"You keep talking like I want you to die," she snarls back, angling her body between him and the door in a stubborn bid to keep him rooted where he stands now that his wings conceal the rest of him. "The fact you're still alive is your victory over him. You really want to throw that away so quickly?" As if she would have ever taken the opportunity he'd handed her with that dagger. Hurt him? Absolutely. But even then, he had wormed his way too deep into her heart. It's a foolish notion to entertain, especially now with how far they have come.
"So you'll use others, but not us? How is that fair? We want to protect you just as much as you want to protect us!" For once she can't find the right words, and angry tears prick at her eyes, frustration scrambling and straining her nerves. "And if he comes for me anyway? Will my death mean anything then, knowing I did nothing to try to stop him?" Hotaru aches to touch him, to force him to listen somehow. The gap between them feels cavernous and foreboding. "What do you want me to do, then? Where am I in this plan of yours?" It's the only sort of attempt at conciliation he'll get, the guarded hand reaching out in some pitifully late attempt at reaching a middle ground. Swallowing down acid and anger alike before they can form into further words. She doesn't want to hurt him, that's the whole point of this fight.
"You keep talking like I want you to die," she snarls back, angling her body between him and the door in a stubborn bid to keep him rooted where he stands now that his wings conceal the rest of him. "The fact you're still alive is your victory over him. You really want to throw that away so quickly?" As if she would have ever taken the opportunity he'd handed her with that dagger. Hurt him? Absolutely. But even then, he had wormed his way too deep into her heart. It's a foolish notion to entertain, especially now with how far they have come.
"So you'll use others, but not us? How is that fair? We want to protect you just as much as you want to protect us!" For once she can't find the right words, and angry tears prick at her eyes, frustration scrambling and straining her nerves. "And if he comes for me anyway? Will my death mean anything then, knowing I did nothing to try to stop him?" Hotaru aches to touch him, to force him to listen somehow. The gap between them feels cavernous and foreboding. "What do you want me to do, then? Where am I in this plan of yours?" It's the only sort of attempt at conciliation he'll get, the guarded hand reaching out in some pitifully late attempt at reaching a middle ground. Swallowing down acid and anger alike before they can form into further words. She doesn't want to hurt him, that's the whole point of this fight.
HOTARU
