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You've sold your soul, darling, why would I help you? You forgot about the real world, threw it all away, chose whatever "life" this will be, and now you come to me begging?
So weak. Almost pathetic, on a path to nowhere.
What? You're saying I'm weak too? Well, maybe. Why would it matter to you, though?
Your blood is ichor, black. You feed off the moonlight, and it's only storms and new moons now. You are rotten inside, no clocks ticking away your life. And for what? You will plead to let you die in no time.
It's only been a day, and you've already lost it all.
You will have to run from Him, no matter what you do. Foolish. He will find you, grab you with His long arms and sharp claws.
I will not help you, darling.
What? Waltz? You are asking me for a dance? Why not.
Pirouette after pirouette, one-two-three-four, step forward, step back. Their arms around each other, their hands on each other's backs. Closer, closer with every second, a pose becomes an embrace. Closer, even closer. Close.
I've sold my soul, darling. I have nothing to give any more. My blood is ice, white.
I don't even have you to give me warmth. I lost it, in only a day. Just as you've said.
And He will find me. I can't even die to escape Him. I'm done.
You cannot help me, darling.
Cross my heart and hope to die, right? Gone are the days, right?
I can't even cry any more.
Neither can you, right?
Let us dance, even if just for a little more. Please don't let me go.