Leviathan's in front of me now.
I didn't hear him move.
His hands hover near my shoulders, not quite touching, like he's not sure if contact is welcome.
"I'm okay," I manage between sobs. "I'm okay, I just?—"
"You don't have to be okay."
The words are so unexpected that I look up at him.
I really look, past the cold exterior, the stone-carved face, the reputation that makes grown men afraid.
What I see underneath makes my breath catch.
He's tired. Bone-deep exhausted in a way that has nothing to do with tonight and everything to do with a lifetime of carrying weight that would crush most men.
And he's looking at me like... like I matter. Like my pain is something worth acknowledging.
"Whydid you do it?" I ask. "Why do you care what happens to me?"
He's quiet for a long moment.
I watch him struggle with the question, watch him try to find an answer that makes sense.
"I don't know," he finally admits. "I saw him hurting you, and something in me... broke. I don't do that. I don't lose control. But with you—" He shakes his head. "I can't explain it."
"You killed a man for me. A man you've known for years."
"He wasn't a man. He was a monster." His voice hardens. "And monsters need to be put down."
You'd be nothing without me.Cain's voice, echoing from somewhere deep in my memory.
But Cain's dead now. And I'm still here. Still breathing. Still existing without him.
Maybe I'm not nothing after all.
"You have blood on your hands," I say softly, reaching out to touch his knuckles.
He flinches—actually flinches—at the contact, and I realize this might be the first gentle touch he's felt in a long time, too.
"Not the first time." His voice is rough. "Won't be the last."
"Does it bother you?"
"No." He pauses. "Should it?"
I think about that.
Think about the man who beat me, terrorized me, made me believe I was worthless.
Think about the relief I felt when Leviathan told me he was dead.
"No," I say. "It shouldn't."
We stand there in the dim room, my fingers still resting on his bloody knuckles.
The silence stretches between us, but it's not uncomfortable.
