[ Though feverish with new discovery, new potential that will allow him to bring greater wisdom ( perhaps even ruin — ) to the world, he is tired enough that he cannot keep pace with the way her anger churns. The way her soul feels like an agony, and he cannot understand why. Why? He has returned, he made sure he would. It was a temporary thing. Is he only allowed to be a tool in one form, with a single direction? Should he be a thing put in a box, released only by those who want him to do their bidding?
( Again? ) ]
You are upset.
[ Before he even gives her a name, he voices his confusion. ]
no subject
( Again? ) ]
You are upset.
[ Before he even gives her a name, he voices his confusion. ]