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“Sir Yut-Lung,” Blanca addresses him in that cool, authoritative tone. “Taking that Japanese boy away from Ash…”
Ugh, here we go… Against his better judgment, Yut-Lung listens.
“It means creating another one of us, you know.”
Rage simmers just beneath his skin. Yut-Lung itches to tear his hair out. Create another one of us? What the hell is he talking about?? I didn’t fucking cause any of this!
The one balm to the sticky tar of violence coursing through his veins, the one thing preventing him from slapping that big gorgeous face: Blanca said us.
Does that fool think we have something in common? Utterly ridiculous.
That Blanca could find comradery in Yut-Lung of all people makes him want to scream. Destroy things.
I’m not like you. You’re strong, capable, likable.
“One more wretched being, unloved and unloving, whose only sustenance is hatred and nihilism…”
Yut-Lung glares defiantly forward, sensing dark brown eyes seek his own. He stares slightly higher, to the left, avoids the taller man’s gaze. Refuses Blanca the satisfaction of an emotional reaction.
Why accept a bid for connection, with the reek of abandonment lying just around the corner?
Then, Blanca leaves.
Well. I was right.