#lyndon brannick

[thefreelanceangel]

It was dark.

   ...and abandoned.

  As far as I could tell, it looked like he'd packed quickly and efficiently. Not even a discarded cup or forgotten sock. Every shelf, every open cupboard was empty, and the furniture looked weathered. As if in the time I'd been gone, years had swept through the room and taken all the life from everything inside.

  So... That's the end of that, I suppose.

[thefreelanceangel]

 Why is it the damn man haunts me even when he's dead and it's someone else wearing his mask?

   I couldn't argue with his logic- isn't that something? A man masquerading as a lunatic can rationalize more effectively than anyone I've ever met. I had to leave. It wasn't how he looked at me that bothered me. I'm used to that vague look of pity that most people have if they're not glaring at me. It wasn't even the tone in his voice when he said that the only death worth dying was in defense of someone beloved.

   It was the fact that he was right.

   I am being a coward, and I ...can't bring myself to do the right thing. The courageous thing. 

   I could say it out loud, as long as I was saying it jokingly, sarcastically. I can't... even say it to myself, even though I know it's true. I know... and I also know he's right.

   ...and I don't even have the spine to walk away. It wouldn't be hard. Some actual willpower on my part, distance. Silence. Leaving him to the women I know he's murmured those same soft words to night after night. The women he actually cares about. I can do my job without this. 

   He's right.

   I am a coward.

   Seeing those windows alight, I couldn't bring myself to even approach. I saw his shadow cross the window. Just one shadow. He was alone. I could have gone to the door. Could have laid a hand on it. Gotten what I came all the way out to Claypool for. 

   I didn't.

   All I could think of was the fact that this is only beginning. There's no telling where I'll be tomorrow. What I'll be doing. Who I may be avoiding to keep myself alive. What right do I have to pull anyone into that? Especially someone... that I don't want to see dead.

 Like that stupid, stupid kid. Damn nobles thinking themselves untouchable just because they have a stupid syllable or two in front of their names. The way he stuttered... He didn't even realize everything I could have done to him. Everything someone else could have done to him. Idiot. He just stared at that dagger like he'd never seen a blade before in his life...

   ...gods. A lunatic called me a coward... and he was right.

[thefreelanceangel]

And I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you

[thefreelanceangel]

If I don't come back...

  ...he'll remember that moment for a while.

  And then...

   ...he won't remember it at all.

[thefreelanceangel]

Letting go of his glove- the only thing I have left of him- I felt sick.

   If it wasn't for the fact that I honestly don't know if I'll be alive three days from now... I don't know if I could've done it. 

   ...I know I couldn't have let anyone else take it. 

   Just him, for some... odd reason.

[thefreelanceangel]

I hope I'll be alive to come back for it.

[thefreelanceangel]

I wish she'd keep moving.

It's quieter in my head when she's moving; I have to focus on watching her, watching the area, making sure she's making it from place to place safely. Now that she's gone back to the safehouse- back to him, I imagine- all I have to do is keep an attentive ear and eye.

...this is way too much time to think. 

Even with my knee hurting as badly as it does- nice going with all of that idiocy- I can't focus on just that. No, like with a small, annoying cut, I'm just picking at my thoughts and wishing that the Gods weren't so damn fond of irony.

'I miss feeling something,' I'd said. Well done, Ciara. You fucked yourself royally with that one. What was it that my brother used to say? "You don't want what you have until you don't have it anymore." ...I'd love to feel nothing right now. I wish I felt nothing. Noooo, of course not. I had to be the genius and pray for some reason to feel something again. 

...why is it the only way the Gods prove they exist is by fucking your life up?

What did he expect? What did he think was going to happen? Gods... Why the hell would anyone want to make someone anything close to what I am? It... hurt. It hurt badly when he smiled at her, when he said that he liked her just the way she was. All I could think of was Lyndon when he'd said that no one looked at him and smiled. 

He was right. It does hurt, even if you don't want it to.

...and the way the look on her face changed when I stepped into the room...

What am I doing? What the hell am I even doing? Forget everything I said, Grenth. Let the feeling die; I was better off that way and so was everyone else. ...there's got to be a way to remind myself not to be so gods damned stupid.

Other than his grave.

[thefreelanceangel]

...this was the worst idea ever.

  Ever.