𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐑¹⁸⁺ | 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

25

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 | "𝐏𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧."

ϟ

  The single lit candle was almost too bright to look at. The flame flickered in that vulnerable way fire does, the nascent flame being pushed by a breeze from the recently opened door.

  The candlelight permits the eyes to both see and rest, the perfect bridge between the world of the awake and the world of dreams.

  "I needed you to be less valuable." Vance's face is only visible by the flickering light of the fire he is in possession of. He shuts the cell door behind us, the memories of the events an hour prior must be shoved off the deepest edges of my mind. The hallways that were previously visible are dead black— nothing outside of this five feet of space is perceivable. "Tha— I'm sorry, it's dark. The basement— it doesn't have lanterns and the superintendent of sector 54 wanted to seal the basement of any wizardry when they determine— uh."

  "Determine who the highest bidder is? Draco told me." I swiftly slide the dagger from my waistband, pointing it at his mid-abdomen to where it slightly pricks him. "Now, give me my magic back."

  "Y/N, what are you doing?" He attempts to venture back but I only push the blade along with my steps, a few millimeters are punctured through his skin. "Did Draco give you that?"

  "Do you know how hard it is to crack through breast bone?" I don't anticipate harming Vance—never would I at any point purposefully hurt him. This is a strategy to permit me to express my worries without my words pulverizing to dust beneath his fingers. "I tried ignoring it— the way you punched your fist through breast bone to rip an individual's heart out. Y'know at first I thought it was sweet— how you killed Reega for me."

  Vance does not recoil nor does he continue to question where I have acquired this dagger. "Y/N— baby, put the blade down."

  "You're a killer— and so is everyone else in this fuck-ing manor." I push the handle a tad bit deeper, a few millimeters piercing the flesh of his skin. My hand trembles, the tips of my fingers nearly turning white by how hard I am gripping the handle. "Except— Draco, he doesn't kill. Y— You slaughter everyone in your way, you are sick you find pleasure in taking the precious life of others."

  His hands reach and weave through my hair, brushing it past my shoulders with a warming touch. "Y/N, what difference does that make? We're here aren't we? You're safe with me, aren't yo—"

  "—How can you do that when you have a living breathing son?" I question, wondering how far this blade must puncture his abdomen for blood to drizzle out. "Don't you want to set a good example for him? Do you want him to know you as a killer? I mean— if I had a child I would certainly drop all my scandalous acts."