[private] I wouldn't know where to start

[atrox]

hangman hooded, softly swinging; don't close the coffin yet, I'm alive

He does not linger on the idea of their first child much. It’s so deep in the past that he can hardly remember it as something that had ever happened. It was lifetimes ago, and he barely remembers his name. Barely remembers that it had been a he. Still, he nods. Actually looking closer to the children mingled together, legs and limbs all tangled together. “I am hardly ever sorry for children existing,” he says with a shrug, following it up lest she think it sentimental. “I hardly ever know they exist.”

It’s a thread of his typical dark humor, but they taste like poison when he thinks of Magnus.

How he doesn’t know he exists either.

It’s easier to focus on her instead, rather than all of these personal failures that turn around and stick like daggers in his chest. “You shouldn’t apologize though.” His hoarse voice is roughened on the edges, decades and centuries of callous building up as he shrugs. “I knew what I was doing.” It was one of the few things in his life he was good at—if it wasn’t fighting and ruining things that he shouldn’t care about.

There’s no surprise on his face though at his question, and he doesn’t answer right away. Instead he looks way, tail flicking behind him as he chews on the answer. Once, he would have done it even if she hadn’t asked. Especially if she hadn’t asked. He had imagined it so many times before. This time though, he isn’t so sure, and when he sees a certain face floating before him, he scowls and turns back to her.

“No,” he bites off. “I wouldn’t have.”

ATROX | THE PANTHER KING