He growls in his throat without really knowing why, but he doesn't pull away. This feels right and wrong all at the same time, and that contrast fills him with a wordless frustration. He should hate her, he thinks. He should have killed her a long time ago. But he hasn't, and looking at her right now, he doesn't want to.
His tries to think, over and over: what is wrong with him? What's happening? What is he? He can't focus, and he doesn't have the answer to anything. And the longer this goes on, the more he feels like he needs to run.
But she's so close to him right now, and she's promising an end to his pain. Bullshit, part of him says. He put his faith in others before and ended up like this. If she didn't save him before then why would she save him now?
The memory stirs something inside him. Thoughts of when he was alive - when he was someone else, a long time ago. He thinks of them, all of them, and he can barely contain his sorrow.
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His tries to think, over and over: what is wrong with him? What's happening? What is he? He can't focus, and he doesn't have the answer to anything. And the longer this goes on, the more he feels like he needs to run.
But she's so close to him right now, and she's promising an end to his pain. Bullshit, part of him says. He put his faith in others before and ended up like this. If she didn't save him before then why would she save him now?
The memory stirs something inside him. Thoughts of when he was alive - when he was someone else, a long time ago. He thinks of them, all of them, and he can barely contain his sorrow.
He leans down and sets his lips against hers.