Worth it
"At the end of the day, what matters is that you can look back and say: 'I'm satisfied. It was worth it. I wouldn't have done it any other way.'"
The memory of those words, spoken more than two decades ago to him at the university, resurfaced as Vesca hauled the detective onto a couch and his son hurried to tend to the young man's wounds. He slowly sat down on his throne-like armchair, violet eyes scanning the movement before him coldly as he opened his hand fan fully.
As soon as he felt the agent's blue gaze upon him, he smirked. "Was it worth it, Vesca?" he mouthed carefully.
For a moment, D could see the mirage of the American student he'd met in Albany flicker over the current truth of the older Howell. "Yes," he answered in the same way, adding a firm nod. The illusion vanished, but not without a whispered: 'seeing you again was worth my whole life.'
The Count frowned and looked away for a minute as the question was thrown back at him afterward. Then he regained all his mocking aura in a blink, while his soul writhed within at the lie that moved his dark lips:
"You aren't worth it, Vesca. You have become old and bitter and twice as foolish. I wouldn't have you even if you begged me for it." And that had he muttered, not mouthed, thankful of his son's distraction with the detective.
He saw how the agent's shoulders fell, how he turned his head away, ending the exchange between them. 'It cannot be, Vesca,' he thought sadly, fanning himself a faster as he felt his eyes stinging. 'You are worth it, for me… but I would have done it differently anyways.'
It could have been better, he knew…
Read, Enjoy & Review