Stand face to face with your god
How keen he is to tell her exactly what she wants to hear. And she loves him for this, certainly.
There is power in the way he looks at her. It is this she feasts on. It is this that convinces her she is worthy of worship, because there is something in his feverish eyes that tells her she is. It is a dangerous power, certainly, if only because it leaves her fiendish and feral when the rest of the world does not look at her the same way.
He is so precious to her, her Obelisk, but so terribly bad for her, too.
She turns her attention squarely on him then, exhaling a stilted sigh as she studies the galaxy splashed across his face, down the length of his neck. A charged silence passes between them in the wake of his answer while she studies him, something like scrutiny but softer.
“Tell me the truth,” she says, plain. His answer had shot a sordid thrill through the network of her veins but she suspects he’d only said it because he’d thought it was what she’d wanted to hear.
At the heart of her, she is cruel. She is cold and calculating. She is the result of the tragedy that bore her, bore all three of them. But there is a softness in her reserved only for her brothers and though she delights in all the ways he pleases her, she knows that he does not exist only to serve her.
“Where would you go?” she asks again.
