even when i was a child
i’ve always known there was something to be frightened of
i’ve always known there was something to be frightened of
Maybe Sam wants his words to hurt her. Maybe he intends to slap her with them, to challenge her morals with his little jab. Did she want him to die? Of course not, but...
(Did she want Adam to stay dead? Would it be better not to have him, then to have come so close---?)
"You could have had faith," she says instead, her voice soft, hard, as hot as molten steel. "You could have given me a chance to try, instead of, of..."
Instead of reaching for a half-life. Instead of chaining yourself to something that will always keep you away from me.
At least Adam hadn't known. That's all Amalia can think in this moment, the rage she clings to as her heartbeat quickens, as tears briefly blur Sam's figure into a very different man. Adam, who had always shone so brightly, life in every gesture and breath; Adam, who had come like a whirlwind into her life, a gust of air disturbing the dusty alcoves of her soul. What was Sam, compared to that?
What right did Sam have to beg her forgiveness, when she had denied the same to him?
"You ran," she murmurs in that same soft tone, and takes a step forward in the sand. "Why run, if you were innocent? Why leave his body to rot in the sun, throat torn out as the smell of his blood brought in more predators like you?"
Another step, her voice growing harder. "And what do you think it was that made you ill? What gave you the blight that caused you such madness you'd kill and flee like an animal? Did you ever stop to think about where something so unnatural might have come from? Something wrong and destructive, like you?"
(Did she want Adam to stay dead? Would it be better not to have him, then to have come so close---?)
"You could have had faith," she says instead, her voice soft, hard, as hot as molten steel. "You could have given me a chance to try, instead of, of..."
Instead of reaching for a half-life. Instead of chaining yourself to something that will always keep you away from me.
At least Adam hadn't known. That's all Amalia can think in this moment, the rage she clings to as her heartbeat quickens, as tears briefly blur Sam's figure into a very different man. Adam, who had always shone so brightly, life in every gesture and breath; Adam, who had come like a whirlwind into her life, a gust of air disturbing the dusty alcoves of her soul. What was Sam, compared to that?
What right did Sam have to beg her forgiveness, when she had denied the same to him?
"You ran," she murmurs in that same soft tone, and takes a step forward in the sand. "Why run, if you were innocent? Why leave his body to rot in the sun, throat torn out as the smell of his blood brought in more predators like you?"
Another step, her voice growing harder. "And what do you think it was that made you ill? What gave you the blight that caused you such madness you'd kill and flee like an animal? Did you ever stop to think about where something so unnatural might have come from? Something wrong and destructive, like you?"
