[private] oh, these wings, they flicker; desire

[aureus]

Aureus

oh, these wings, they flicker and my feathers stir
'til I'm an ancient soul in a cascade world

He was not particularly difficult to dismantle, but it would not have mattered if he was.

It would not have mattered if he had all of the shields in the world—would not have mattered if he was fortified with protection. Because, at the end of the day, she was an expert at this. She was completely schooled in the art of taking someone apart, and he was simply the unlucky recipient of watching the mastermind at work. Of being the one being taken apart—piece by piece, brick by brick.

(And didn’t he deserve it?

If he was to know her reasoning, would he not agree?)

But all he knows is that Hourglass is looking at him with rage and hurt, with apathy and then disbelief. He watches her face, aged since the last time he had seen her, and he knows that the pain on it is his fault. Of course it was his fault. He has known from the start that he would be the one to do something like this.

This is why he had tried to extract himself from the beginning, but that had not been enough.

“I have always been selfish,” because at least he can give her that. “But I thought I was staving off the worst of my selfishness,” his voice is deeper this time. “I would have kept you. I would have held you away for myself,” he admits and this hurts to admit when she looks at him this way. “I thought that by keeping away that you would be safe from the worst of my selfish impulses.”

He shakes his head.

“I cared too much,” his throat aches. “That’s always been the problem.”

and I'm quick with the bullet when it comes undone
I got a head like a turret with a mouth for a gun