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Summary
"You took every good thing I have," Lumine accuses him. And she sees it — that edge in his gaze, the slight tear on red eyeliner.
"Everything good in your life is because of me," Scaramouche says, calm if not deadpanned. But she notices how he tenses, how his breath slows and how his face contorts into hurt. For a moment, it doesn't even seem like he's breathing. "You're alive right now because of me, Lumine."
"You mean despite you," she's quick to cut, and he's quick to react. Eyes narrowing like he could choke her right then and there and she wouldn't be able to do anything about it. His fingers twitching — considering.
Or: if love was a metal cage and a hand around your throat.
