[ She hates the way she winces at his words, hates that she can't tell him he's wrong. Hates that she hates him and knows his true nature, watched him commit atrocities and yet is still plagued with this guilt. All because her actions went against everything she'd worked to become.
The inner conflict is so much that she nearly rips the charm right off her wrist, with the overwhelming urge to stop on it until it's nothing more than rubble; but somehow, she holds back. ]
An inn isn't a home. I don't have a home. [ Not here. Sorry, Vi. ]
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The inner conflict is so much that she nearly rips the charm right off her wrist, with the overwhelming urge to stop on it until it's nothing more than rubble; but somehow, she holds back. ]
An inn isn't a home. I don't have a home. [ Not here. Sorry, Vi. ]