It is as cold as the sin corridor. The very air around him is crisp and icy. It's bathed in an icy blue that only comes from the sharpness of his anger as he pours over the ingredients in front of him, but does not actually touch any of it.
He is not so lost in his namesake sin that he does not hear her steps, does not hear her.
He has only a few memories of her in the last few days, and he can only imagine it is because she was gone trying to help him, attempting to find answers like he left for similar reasons with her. His hand curves over the corner of the table like a fist, tight and hard and- one inhale of breath followed by an exhale before he speaks her name:
"Emilia."
His voice is a softly spoken thing as he wars with his own wrath, with the monster he must keep caged but which wants to break free and tear apart tonight.
no subject
It is as cold as the sin corridor. The very air around him is crisp and icy. It's bathed in an icy blue that only comes from the sharpness of his anger as he pours over the ingredients in front of him, but does not actually touch any of it.
He is not so lost in his namesake sin that he does not hear her steps, does not hear her.
He has only a few memories of her in the last few days, and he can only imagine it is because she was gone trying to help him, attempting to find answers like he left for similar reasons with her. His hand curves over the corner of the table like a fist, tight and hard and- one inhale of breath followed by an exhale before he speaks her name:
"Emilia."
His voice is a softly spoken thing as he wars with his own wrath, with the monster he must keep caged but which wants to break free and tear apart tonight.