"Dont chase the Lusus" for Hera
“I’ve always loved your hair, you know.”
Hera stared at her reflection in the mirror as the taller troll stood behind her, playing with her ponytail. Hera decided she’d never wanted more than to cut off her hair.
“Don’t touch me, Pheone.”
He didn’t let go of her, and instead started a small braid halfway down her back.
“I know you can hear me, asshole. What the fuck do you want.” Hera continued. Pheone raised his brows, tilting his head, but didn’t look up from his fingers running through her hair.
“Iiii just wanted to talk. You know. Work things out.”
“Change your blood color and then you can come crawling back.”
Pheone clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and sucked his breath in through his teeth.
“So harsh! I love that about you, too.”
“Shut up.”
“I think you’re more receptive than you’re willing to admit since you’re not trying to kill me-”
Hera whirled around, and Pheone grabbed her face and slammed the back of her head against the mirror, shattering it. Deep red blood trickled down the back of Hera’s neck, and down the wall.
Pheone leaned in, lips hardly an inch from hers.
“If you want to play rough, darling-”
Hera lashed out, grasping his neck despite his attempt to block her. He tried to back away but only succeeded in dragging Hera with him, and she bashed her foot into his knee to throw him off balance. This succeeded, and Pheone slammed into the dresser with Hera on top of him, squeezing his throat. A bright red flush crept into his face as he suffocated, and he clawed desperately at her hands, long nails gouging uselessly into her skin.
He switched to kicking, his foot knocking a few times into her hips with little effect, until he finally got a solid hit just below her ribs. That dislodged her, knocking the wind out of her chest. Clutching her stomach she wheezed and gasped for breath, while Pheone pulled a switchblade from his pocket and opened the blade. His chest heaving, he shook his head, trying to get enough air in his lungs to speak.
“I really...Can’t tell if you’re flirting or not, sometimes. This is...A bit much, don’t you think..?”
Hera bowed her head and charged him, intending on goring him with her horns. Flinching backwards he instinctively held the knife out, managing to grab one of her horns and lift her head enough to avoid getting gored- But she ran into the knife, and when Pheone felt her blood on his hand, he hastily let it go.
Hera sank to her knees, clutching the knife in her stomach- But glaring up at Pheone with a burning rage in her eyes. Pheone backed away, looking at the blood on his hand and then around the room, clearly having not intended to actually stab her. He weighed his options and bolted, running downstairs and leaving Hera bleeding in her bedroom.