When I die, I'll let go

She looked down at him, and saw the flicker of pride in his eyes, tempered by the sting of defeat. It pleased her to know that she had bested him, that her skills had surpassed his expectations. As much as he had surpassed her own. The fire, the crucible, that’s what they’d been tempered by. Resilient, determined. She was delighted. It shone in her steely emeralds, as they twinkled with satisfaction and intensity.

His mocking cry of her name stirred something within her — a mix of amusement and frustration. Flare always had a way of getting under her skin when they were younger, riling her up with his taunts and jibes. But deep down, she knew that there was a mutual respect between them. Or something similar. Two rats from the same gutter. The woman grinned, releasing the brute with a rough shove. “My name has never sounded so sweet. Lose more, so I can feel all warm and tingly again.”

wormwood