His gaze slowly slid over the destruction he'd wrought, and to her. His stare stopped dead. It paused, then slithered down her, back up, through every fold of fabric, every crease, every shadow. Like a snake, it's cold scales sliding along every inch of her skin.
His gaze slid back up her and he looked into her eyes. Blake's breathing hitched. Her blood froze and her veins burned. Her muscles turned to stone, cracking, trembling. Her feet moved back, shadows grabbing at her ankles, pulling her away.
"Running away again?"
The cold steel of his voice slashed at the shadows. And it echoed in her mind, along her spine and to her chest. Like a memory awakened, like something she'd buried and longed for had finally escaped. She looked at him, at the twisted mouth he wore as a smile, baring his teeth like an animal.
It wasn't anger that flared up in her chest then, although she'd wished it was.
"Why are you doing this?"
It came out a plea. His lips stretched further, creasing his face, creating shadows where there used to be none. Blake kept her legs from trembling. She searched for his eyes through the holes in his mask.
"We were going to change the world, remember?"
It was then Blake noticed the man laying under Adam's heel. He tried to squirm away, gasping for air. Adam pressed his foot down. She imagined the strain on the man's ribs. She reached out, but her body refused to. She stayed frozen in place, like a statue. She felt his stare slide on her again, falling along her jaw like a tear, rolling down her neck.
She wanted to lunge at him, to shatter his mask, to yell stop looking at me, to add like that, because she wished she could see his eyes one more time. Not these, not the ones she knew he hid under that bone mask, but the ones she could remember.
"This isn't..."
His blade against his sheathe cut her off. She hated herself for being startled to silence. Adam cocked his head.
"This isn't what, Blake?"
He gesticulated as he spoke, whipping his blade around. He straightened his head again, raising his face, exposing his throat to let out a laugh. It sounded like metal against metal, and Blake would have liked to rip out the chill it sent down her spine.
"We tried the easy way, Blake. We tried and we tried and we tried and you know where that got us. You know where that got us, Blake?"
She tried defiance in her stare. She wasn't sure it worked.
"NOWHERE!"
He roared it, his face contorted in rage.
"We tried and we never stopped trying and we got nowhere! We protested, we were peaceful, even when they screamed at us and insulted us and beat us. We stood there and we took it. We were gonna change the world, like pathetic little puppies hiding from the rain. But puppies don't change the world, Blake. And you don't change the world by hiding, and you don't change the world by being peaceful, Blake."
There were a thousand words nestled in her throat but none of them made sense. So she swallowed around the lump they made and hoped to reorganize them deep in her stomach. And she stayed silent. And she hated herself for it.
He held his arms out in demonstration.
"Because the problem isn't us, Blake. The problem's this world. This world's all wrong. All wrong, Blake. There's nothing to keep. Everything's worthless."
The man under Adam's heel wriggled and squealed. He stepped on him harder, but that didn't stop the wriggling or the squealing, so he looked down and he barked.
"SHUT UP!"
Fear, less than pain, froze him. Adam looked back up to Blake. She'd taken a step.
"But us, we're gonna change the world, Blake! Start off from a blank slate."
He pointed to her, then to himself.
"It was you and me, Blake. I'm about to rule the world. And you were my Queen."
She finally spoke.
"That's not what I wanted. That's not what I want and it never was. I thought you knew me better than that."
There was genuine sadness in her voice. Like the hole he'd dug in her chest was slowly making it's way up. Eating at her. It always did.
Adam collapsed in on himself like a puppet with broken strings. His head fell limp, until the puppeteer yanked on it's thread and he buried his stare in her skull.
"You LEFT me, Blake! And you told me you wouldn't! You told me you wouldn't leave me, like all the worthless piles of trash who'd left me before!"
The hole grew. It ripped at her flesh, tearing muscle open. It hurt. It burned a wide hole in her stomach. It was shame, it was disgust, it was guilt, it was regret. She looked him in the face and she wondered how she could've ever loved him. She wondered how she could've let him slip away, dig himself this deep, lose himself this far.
"You aren't the man I swore to anymore."
She wanted to break their stare. To look away. But she had to face what she had done.
"Don't give me that nonsense!"
He extended his arms, then brought them back to himself. He smacked his hand on his heart, pounding like he was trying to break it out.
"It's still me Blake! I'm right here! Don't lie to me. You're just scared. This new world. The real way to get change. You're just too much of a coward to take it."
He reached out, grabbing at something that wasn't there. She shut up all instinct that told her to step back.
"But we're doing it, now. I don't need you. This is it. This is it, Blake. This is where it starts."
He looked around, like he was remembering where he was. Then he looked down, to the man scared to death under his heel, and he twisted his lips and bared his fangs.
"Right. Here."
The man started wriggling again, trashing about, trying to get away. The sword was flipped, blade down, and he lifted it high so the gods would see this sacrifice.
He brought his sword down onto Blake's. She tried to push him back but he stayed right in place.
She said, "I won't let you."
His lips stretched further. It made him look like he was in pain.
"Fucking stop me, kitten."
