#crimeparents

[eggyplastics]

Collab with Firiun @ Twitter

His lines, my colors

[captifate-blog]

for jauneboy

"You always intended to betray me, didn't you?"

Roman plays with his lighter: Cap off, cap on, cap off... "Yeah. And you always knew?"

"The cause was worth the risk," she says through a chuckle. Cinder lifts her arm while gesturing towards his little trinket that already has already passed through Emerald's hands. "Did you need help with that?"

"You're all out of fumes."

The second bout of laughter is much more strained. "Yes. Done in by your excellent handiwork. I need that cancer stick more than you, wouldn't you say?"

Roman ignites the flame and motions dropping it into the gasoline by his feet. "I can't leave a lick of evidence, princess. That's how the job works."

Neither ashes nor cinders tell any tales.

[captifate-blog]

Let her think she's won the match; chess is but a game, after all. She considers him vital to her strategy - without him, the plan falls apart no matter how many pawns she amasses.

It helps to imagine the eggshells as mines as he tiptoes around her while tipping his hat and feigning reverence. She likes to coddle him in the most patronizing of ways, but he would be a liar if ever he uttered the syllable, "Stop."

Mercury knows what he is up to, but the boy is too whipped to speak out against her. Emerald bears nothing but scorn for him, and he can't help but wonder how many upturned bottles she went home to. They don't matter to him until she reminds him to care.

And maybe he does care: In a twisted self-serving way.

Once, twice, it doesn't matter how many times he leaps in and interferes before Red and her little cohorts can permanently scar her precious little kids; they will hate him - just the way he likes it - until the line blurs.

Just as the lines that are never to be crossed between her and himself have blurred.

"Am I allowed to know what your plans are yet?"

"You tell me, Roman. Am I allowed to guess at yours yet?"

She knew. She knew.  She knew.