Sep 10, 2018
@brokenbcnnett
The heretic let his head roll on the pillow under it, turning to glance at the woman that lied beside him. It would have been instantly obvious that he had something on his mind, the way his eyes shone at her. Thoughts gleaming. No more than a moment had passed before his lips parted; mind spilling out onto the silk case of the pillow they shared. “Do you still hate me for what I did to my family?” he asked, a solemn resolve taking hold of his features -- stealing away at his usual light and animation. But it was not pain in his voice or eyes. It was something warmer, like he had come to some unspoken terms.