Let him leave. It's a mantra inside her head, over and over again. Just let him walk away.
But she's never been very good at that, has she? Leaving well enough alone is not her strong suit. She had done it only once before, and it had taken everything in her not to leave a path of destruction in her wake.
But she can't. She can't seem to just let it go, to give him what he so clearly wants. Her acquiescence. Even in this, even in anger, she can't give him that.
In the end, she's not entirely sure they won't destroy each other.
“Walk away then,” she needles harshly, pale blue eyes snapping open. She should've turned away, but instead she stares coldly after him. “It's what you're good at, isn't it?”
He had withstood her physical attack so easily. There had been no satisfaction. He hadn't even tried to fight back. And though she knows she should stop there, knows that she shouldn't be so cruel to a man she had come to care for (even if she would never admit to such a thing), she can't seem to stop herself.
She doesn't even need to move a muscle to hurt him.
“I mean, that's what you've always done,” she continues. He has always called her Dagger, and she has always hated it. But, as she drives it home, it's surprisingly apt. “To all the others. Shook them off like so much dust on your feet.” She laughs then, a short, sharp laugh with no humor in the discordant notes. “And now, you don't even remember their names, do you?”
Her eyes have hardened, going icy with furious menace. It seems in her own pain, the only thing she knows how to do is hurt.
“Give it time Dovev, I bet soon you won't even remember mine.”
i see your sins
and i want to set them free
