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Lucifer Morningstar
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Re: Loft
Date: 11 Jul 2021 12:12 (UTC)He was angry. He was sad. He was a strange and fluctuating mixture of both.
But it was easier to project the rage than the rest of it, each word a snap of fury.
"I had a dream my life would be,
So different from this Hell I’m living,
So different now from what it seems..."
Except fury was finite, where the sorrow was not. He loathed these moments, where his expression broke, his voice cracked, because after all this time the mask kept slipping through his fingers.
"Now life has..." His gaze dropped from Father's face. "Killed--" he forced out, short, an off staccato beat. "...the dream..."
He thought of Octavia, begging him to stay. Duke's dogged pursuit. The look in Chloe's eyes.
Long years of ash drifting in silence.
He collapsed in his chair with jagged, imprecise motions, as if each part of his body gave in to gravity separately, uncoordinated. "...I dreamed."
He was crying again. He leaned forward and pressed his fingertips to his eyes so Father couldn't see, a useless gesture, done because it was all he knew.