Who Will Falter, Who Will Conquer

When Alastor entered the den her gaze reached up to meet his form, stale, contained, strong. Typical of her. But it was easy enough for her to break. She liked to believe she could live this parallel life with him. To be everything he wanted her to be. To never give in to what she truly wanted. She was wrong. Maybe early on in this star crossed unorthodoxed relationship they had, but as time went on it became clear that it wouldn't be enough. And she kept shoving it down until everything around it shattered ad became raw.

A few seconds of keeping the fighting glare back at his own, and she was down in shambles. Her gaze dropping from him as she bit her lip and tried her best to keep everything in but it was all gone. She could have fought back with him, try to make him seem like a bad guy or reflect anything away from her. That wasn't her though. Even if the situation was completely different than had occurred, if Alastor knew of the babies before hand and left her to her own devices, didn't care about the miscarriage or wanted them dead anyway, she'd always put the blame on herself. To her, she was worthless. Never a way Alastor had ever seen her, and no matter how hard he tried to make her see otherwise.

"I'm sorry." She managed to choke out, subtly retracting from him just from the way he looked at her. He didn't need to do anything else. It was for him, an entire truth. She was sorry for what she did to him. And sorry for all the things out of her control. She hadn't experienced it but she knew of his condition through what Manea told her. Harshly. She wouldn't know what else she could do for him.

"Relm"