❛ was this your plan all along? ❜
HATE IS ALL THAT YOU KNOW. you wear it like a second skin, like the scars that mar your aching body. you want him to feel what you felt. you want him to feel that hurt, to be afraid. you want him choke on his apology, to beg and plead for his life, just as you did. because it’s him who deserves this, not you. the rebel king –– what will his people think of him now ?
fingers circle around the belt, wind it around your fist. you pull and watch the noose tighten around his neck. you see the fear flash in his eyes before hardening again to stone.
❛ my plan ? ❜
laughter rasps against your throat, humourless and dry. you pull the belt again, this time with all the strength in your bones, until bellamy teeters at the edge of the crate. until his breath strains and you catch a glimpse of that same flickering emotion. this time, a smile haunts the corners of your mouth, cold and frightening.
your plan was to have your pound of flesh, or to take it by force.
in hindsight, this is what you will remember: the weight of betrayal pressing down on your chest and a thirst for vengeance. you will remember the noose they tied around your neck, the maelstrom of the crowd as they gathered and cheered, chanted a coward’s name. you will remember the snap of the rope as the crate was kicked out from beneath you.
you will never be fortunate enough to remember only in fragments.
❛ i guess you could say that. although, let’s be honest –– you shouldn’t be saying much of anything. because i sure as hell wasn’t when they shoved strips of cloth in my mouth. ❜
MEME / @blmys