"Walk away then. It's what you're good at, isn't it?"
He kept walking.
It wasn't like he had a damn clue what she was talking about. Probably just angry ranting in that way women do, trying to get a rise out of him.
So he kept walking.
"I mean, that's what you've always done. To all the others. Shook them off like so much dust on your feet."
A frown clouded his face, but he kept walking. Don't listen, she's just digging at him. He didn't even remember any others and he damn well wasn't the type to walk away, not in the way she meant it. She should know that by now. Why the hell else would he still be here? In this place that was so damn boring, with no one but a cold-hearted bitch that kept him around and yet wanted nothing to do with him.
And now, you don't even remember their names, do you?"
He stopped.
His heart might've too for a moment there.
Turning slowly, his face was expressionless behind his mask, bottomless black eyes taking her in silently. She knew he couldn't remember anything. Had she just been manipulating him this whole time? Choosing what to give away, and when. Just in the right moments. Just enough to keep him around for whatever purpose.
Were they biding their time for a greater agenda?
"Give it time Dovev, I bet soon you won't even remember mine."
His face hardened, muscle in his jaw twitching. Was she taking his memories?? What the fuck kinda game was this? What were the rules so he knew which ones to break?
He walked toward her, his mind racing. The scar on his hip burned in taunting memory, half-hidden beneath a bone plate rupturing from his body. He didn't even know what it meant - couldn't remember - but he could feel it there, feel it reminding him in a sense at least, that he was more than this.
He was created on the mountain.
He was trained ruthlessly by a hard magician, beat down at every mistake to make him stronger, to teach him to withstand the pain, not cripple beneath it. Ignore it.
He was betrayed by the same man.
He learned a new lesson.
Dovev stopped before her, looking down at her with a chill in his blood and coldness in his eyes. The stars over his legs were turning pink with the blood flowing down from his armor, shifting and growing and splitting through. It mingled over the blue and turned a black-purple.
He was still being toyed with.
He leaned in close to her, growled a low, "Give me a reason to stay."
Because he's done with this. And he's getting the fuck out of here.
we're slaves to any semblance of touch
Lord, we should quit but we love it too much
