Even knowing Marcus is there, she can't make herself do anything but hold onto Salem and weep.
She should be out of tears, she thinks, she should have spent them already. They fall anyway, and finally she manages to scoot up against Marcus. Her frame holds stiff, though. So many people are poisoned by her existence, and it shouldn't be that way anymore.
Not unless she's just wrong, a thing that ought to be on the throne of Hell not because she's born to it, or because she's tossed the previous occupant into the pit, but because it's a natural order, the best place to keep her.
She doesn't know how to begin to say it, not to Marcus, who knows would only fish her right back out, regardless of the price or consequences.
Salem chatters worriedly, and she knows it's because he suspects her train of thought.
no subject
She should be out of tears, she thinks, she should have spent them already. They fall anyway, and finally she manages to scoot up against Marcus. Her frame holds stiff, though. So many people are poisoned by her existence, and it shouldn't be that way anymore.
Not unless she's just wrong, a thing that ought to be on the throne of Hell not because she's born to it, or because she's tossed the previous occupant into the pit, but because it's a natural order, the best place to keep her.
She doesn't know how to begin to say it, not to Marcus, who knows would only fish her right back out, regardless of the price or consequences.
Salem chatters worriedly, and she knows it's because he suspects her train of thought.