Relapse

The physical assault was to be expected. Aurelia had certainly known him to a possessive individual. Jealousy simply fell in line with the suit, However, he hadn’t anticipated to what degree he would be at his own mercy. When he surged forward upon drawing his blade, there didn’t seem to be much forethought put into his actions- simply reactionary. Whore. She had been called worse. As she lay there feeling the edge of his knife pressed against her skin in a threat, he demanded more from her. Allowed? She wasn’t in a position to prevent anything. She looked up to him in disbelief, her own temper rising behind her depthless azure stare. “What would you have had me do!?” She answered him with a similar intensity. “I can’t defend myself! I can’t even fucking stand up Sephiran! Have you forgotten that part?!” She couldn’t see how, as that was the condition he felt comfortable leaving her on for extended periods of time. As far as he should be concerned, he left her too long.

Arguing the fact that she was indeed not a whore fell to the wayside. The rise that she had earned from him certainly brought a sense of satisfaction. What more could he do? What more could he take? Eventually there would be nothing left but her life, and she begged him to take that. He wasn’t thinking clearly- but did he ever? Perhaps he would be sloppy enough to end their game once and for all.

"Speech"