One man's trash

Her brow furrowed as her angry tears continued to flow. She was trying her best to hold herself to the line she had placed. But her eyes betrayed how easy it was for her to submit to him. How much she desperately wanted to keep him. She could see where he thought he was protecting her... She could see it. It made a sort of sense to her. Her defiant wall was crumbling and a part of her hated it.

She felt his pad over her cheeks, she couldn't help the way her head leaned into each tender swipe. She found her brow had started to melt as she felt his paw trace her cheek, down her chin and run down the length of her neck making her breath shudder unexpectedly. He gripped her shoulder, holding it. It brought her eyes back up to his, a petulant hopeful plea in her eyes as he told her that this... this was the best of him. A part of her really didn't like how she would just melt for him. All he had to do was touch her gently and she was putty in his paws. As if it wiped the memory of what they were fighting about as if it wasn't that important anyway. Her eyes looked up at him trying to remember what it was she was so mad about now.

Ohhh right. The slave girl, and using her to carry his progeny instead of her. Anger flared again at the injustice.

"That one is even smaller than I am!" She insisted, nearly shrill, "And you can't just rip her children away from her either! Bas, I can't do that! All I can see is how I might feel if I was in her place and imagining how awful that would be!" She shook her head, "You can BE better than this. We just won't have any more. I'll take the tea, we have our legacy already. You don't have to do this, please don't do this. I can't do that to her." Would her pleading work? Could he see how much the thought of him doing this was tearing her apart? Was there more to this that she couldn't see?