triumphantiisms.
he tips the rouge wine as if to toast it and takes a long drink. caine had stopped pitying himself about it all years ago. his pity went to her now, simply because she wasn’t done. some part of him wanted to snap her out of it, but grief was grief, and although caine held the last world in the palm of his hand, this world would be THEIRS to share in. he had reached his peak. and when it came his time to inevitably fall, the plunge was taken by the one person he needed. he supposed that diana simply had that motherly touch that caine and astrid never provided. and pete made his choice. however wrong it was - IT HAPPENED. the comment left him with one of two options, and he chose the latter. ‘ you know, sam wouldn’t want you crying over him. over any of them. ‘ he had begun to rationalize with her that way. sam wouldn’t … and the i’s would be dotted and t’s crossed and at the end of the day they would be fine. that’s what had happened for YEARS and that’s what would happen until the day they both died. the smirk found itself upon his lips. yes, he would die, as all great kings did.
“sam wouldn’t want me to do a lot of things, caine,” astrid says bitterly before drowning the last few drops of her drink. the fluid was already working its way in her, especially due to her quick indulgence, and she honestly couldn’t care less as she poured herself another glass. she knew this was caine’s only way of getting through to her, or at least he thought, and she appreciated his effort ---- but the mention of his name brought nothing but a blow to the chest. she wondered how caine managed to so effortlessly not even flinch at the mention of diana. she knew he was hiding his grief; he was being strong and stubborn like always. “how do you not fall apart?” the blonde asks suddenly, surprising even herself. “i know you and diana were rocky,” sam and i weren’t so perfect, either, she added in her head, “but you loved her. i know you did. and now she’s gone. how do you deal?”
