darkness has its teachings

Aurelia

and my hands aren't clean
maybe they never will be

Aurelia's gaze doesn't flinch or soften either. She's stubborn, too, and in this instance she knows herself to be right. "There was no need for any of it and it happened anyway. That's life, so get used to it," she says, rather dismissively. She'd laugh at the ridiculousness of this all, if she had it in her. Instead, a grimace furrows her features. If this girl wants to find something, some sort of closure, she will fail miserably in that endeavor - especially here. Years down the road and Aurelia still hasn't even found her own. So yes, when she sees someone cry and try to fight the death of something like an animal, she has to pity such softness.

She steels and leans forward, until her face is inches away. Can she see it there, Aurelia wonders, the killer. Can she see it in her eyes? A lifetime of pain and strife, is it something that can manifest physically or is it really so invisible it can't even be felt? "I suggest you don't ask questions you don't really want the answers to," her voice is low, almost a growl.

but they can still carry you home
when you're ready to sleep