[In a way, it was easier to shock Hayame with what he was, to sink his fangs into Amos’s neck right in front of her and look her in the eye with blood running down his chin, to shamelessly act as though drinking blood was something he did for pleasure and convenience. That way, her disgust and derision would be deserved. That way, he wouldn’t have to subject himself to the hurt of trying his best to make himself palatable and nonthreatening to someone he loved, someone he relied on, to confess as gently as he knew how, only to have them still recoil in revulsion.
But it’s also worse, to know that he chose to hurt Hayame rather than risk her hurting him. Knowing that his mind was altered during those last few days of the Oracle trial doesn’t ease the guilt at having done it.
Especially when she looks at him like that, with that bitter, angry look in her eyes, confronting him with the reality of his choice.
Her eyes. Her two, whole and uncovered eyes.]
Hayame, will you let me come see you?
[To see… whatever this is. Whatever has been done to her.]
no subject
But it’s also worse, to know that he chose to hurt Hayame rather than risk her hurting him. Knowing that his mind was altered during those last few days of the Oracle trial doesn’t ease the guilt at having done it.
Especially when she looks at him like that, with that bitter, angry look in her eyes, confronting him with the reality of his choice.
Her eyes. Her two, whole and uncovered eyes.]
Hayame, will you let me come see you?
[To see… whatever this is. Whatever has been done to her.]