She said 'so there' like we're children arguing over toys.
"We all lose," she continues, the words landing with implications that carry more weight than their surface suggests. "Damien loses his sanity and kills us all, and we can put the blame on you in the afterlife for being a stubborn Duskwalker."
The accusation makes my jaw clench with frustration that borders on physical pain.
"How are you going to put this onme?" I demand, the words escaping with more heat than I intended.
She huffs.
The sound carries righteous indignation that would be amusing if it weren't so infuriating.
"You want to be the leader," she observes, tone carrying challenge that I recognize as deliberate provocation. "So lead."
Lead.
She's throwing leadership at me like it's some kind of weapon.
"It has nothing to do with leading," I argue, the words emerging through gritted teeth.
"It must be," she counters, not missing a beat. "Because you don't like being ordered around by a hybrid that's not superior to you."
Not superior?—
The suggestion makes something in my chest flare with indignation that has nothing to do with the hierarchy she's implying.
"That isn't fucking it," I growl, frustration bleeding through whatever composure I was maintaining.
She crosses her arms more firmly.
The gesture carries finality that suggests she's prepared to maintain this standoff indefinitely—even as Damien's hellhound rampages in the distance, even as lava continues to erupt around us, even as the situation deteriorates with every second we spend arguing aboutfeelingsinstead of addressing the crisis at hand.
Fine.
Fucking fine.
If she wants honest, I'll give her honest.
I reach out before conscious thought can intervene, my hand finding her chin with grip that forces her face upward. My eyes lock onto hers with intensity that probably broadcasts exactly how frustrated I am, exactly how much this conversation is costing me, exactly how thoroughly she's dismantled the defenses I've spent centuries constructing.
"Yes," I huff, the admission escaping like pressure finally finding release. "I'm mad at you."
Her pink eyes hold mine without flinching.
Good.
She wanted this.
She can deal with what comes with it.
"I'm mad because I want the best for you," I continue, words tumbling out now that the dam has broken. "And I hate how selfless you are when we're in a world of wicked selfishness. It'sannoying."
The description feels inadequate but I can't find better words for the particular frustration of watching someone you love sacrifice themselves repeatedly for people who might not deserve it.
"Putting yourself at risk, balancing this madness—" I gesture vaguely at the chaos surrounding us, the volcanic eruptions and the hellhound and the entire fucking situation that we're somehow supposed to survive. "When all I want to do is shield you from all this fucking danger."
My voice cracks slightly on the next words—vulnerability that I would usually hide but apparently we're doing honest now.
"Love you right. Protect you from the world."
