The hue of blood that drenched the Highblood was an oddity. So red, highlights of brown strangled it, the brown shimmering under light turns a sickly black red. Back and forth, the internal struggle of hues and shades.

That's all it ever is. The struggle between the rusted hues and the regal shades, meeting only gracefully in the middle of olive and teal.

What cruel person would put such a fierce and fiery personality in such an unworthy body. She was practically choking on that melted chocolate she called blood.

"So exotic and bizarre."

She needed better, she deserved better.

But, the feeling was not mutual. In fact, she worshiped the strange, foreign hue; it was clear it would soon be her downfall. Pride of such a worthless blood, he would not have it. It was a disgrace to him, no lowblood should act as if their blood was of a royal, respectable hue.

She didn't respect the hemocaste, and this is where her trouble began.

"Your body is simply not fit to handle such a sludge," Equius began on that fateful morning, "If you insist on parading around like a lady of noble stature."

"I don't like talking about blood."

Her answer was blunt and dry. She didn't even bother to look at him, choosing to ignore him completely.

This only angered Equius, as he's had this very talk with her before, he greatly dislikes how little respect she gives him and silently adores it at the same time. Today was not one of those silent admiration days. Oh no, not at all.

Gruffly, he forcibly turned her towards him, her eye widening in pure surprise. Bruises quickly forming on her upper-arm, her surprise melted into a wince of pure pain.

What happened next is still a blur.

He remembers her voice.

"Stop trying to entice me to be a cold, metal robot."

and,

"My blood shouldn't matter, only I should matter!"

The soothing sound of her voice vanished into shrill screams and pleas as he raised his fist. Losing count after eight, he didn't stop till she lay on the ground. Doubled over, silent and bleeding.

Now he stood, formidable above her, arms covered in the melted candy of her blood. Mind racing as he stared at the shaking heap at his feet. Gingerly, he bent down and scoped her up. Eyes closed, and blood dripping off her black lips and into her open mouth.
"I bet she taste like candy." He was going to fix her, and make her right.

She had no voice in the matter now.