[ That bitter little laugh again. A chuff of it. Why? When he'd been younger, when it was fresh and new, he'd asked that over and over again. Why had it happened? Why had he been the one to bear the stains of their guilt? Why did he also have to die? Why had he finally had to let go of everything he was, to leave it to drift to the bottom of the river? Why had he been discarded like yesterday's refuse?
It had never been fair. Wasn't that what their lots in life were?]
Oh, that's where it gets interesting.
We got her parents killed. [ Were his hands stained with blood? Or was he just drowning in it? ]
My plan, of course. My fault.
[ So he was to blame, clearly. He had never blamed himself in full -- but he'd never had the opportunity to. Guilt couldn't roost where betrayal had dug a bigger hole for hatred and fury to be settle. ] Supposedly.
no subject
It had never been fair. Wasn't that what their lots in life were?]
Oh, that's where it gets interesting.
We got her parents killed. [ Were his hands stained with blood? Or was he just drowning in it? ]
My plan, of course. My fault.
[ So he was to blame, clearly. He had never blamed himself in full -- but he'd never had the opportunity to. Guilt couldn't roost where betrayal had dug a bigger hole for hatred and fury to be settle. ] Supposedly.