@chaosinternalized || While he might have only just learned about his other persona's existence, the lack of his presence was concerning, if not hurtful. Perhaps willingly staying at Harrow's side when he had woken up after the whole incident with Ammit's Ushabti was a deterrent for Marc, but it shouldn't be enough to keep him away permanently... right?
After all, Khonshu was gone, and Steven was far from qualified as far as getting them out and safely went.
And Harrow had upheld his word- don't instigate and he'd be kind.
Was that why Marc was missing? Because he knew he wouldn't keep his cool around these people?
"Um, Harrow, I'm sorry to bother you, but I just- My mum. I call her every day, and it's been a bit. I was wondering if you'd let me reach out just to touch base. I've, um, I've also got a little fish in my flat. Do you think I could get him? Or, at least, see if someone can look after him? No one really knows he's there. His name's Gus-"
If it seemed like he was beginning to ramble, it was only because he was. He was nervous and alone in enemy territory, but Harrow seemed to be kind enough.
Maybe he wouldn't be so cruel as to deny him these simple things.
The water in the sink ran red, and Harrow shut his eyes against it. In his head Ammit was hissing, scolding him for going too far in his last deployment, and in his heart he knew she was right. There was always a less violent way to accomplish anything, and he'd only been uninspired.
But it had been a rush, and that he couldn't deny. Since becoming Ammit's Avatar, Harrow no longer felt tired, hungry, pained, and so penance was hard to come by. And without that constant reminder, it became near impossible to resist the urge to give in to baser instinct.
Ammit healed every wound Harrow inflicted on himself before he could feel the sting of punishment, blessed be.
I'm sorry, he thought. I'm sorry, I can't help it, I don't deserve to serve you, I can't stop, I'm so sorry...
By the time Steven's voice reached his ears, the water going down the sink drain had already turned clear.
"...what?" Eyes shutting, Harrow steeled himself, then turned the faucet off. Without meeting Steven's gaze, he kept his head bowed, recalling with some frustration that Steven was part of his duties, too (even if his stomach twisted in jealousy at the memory of Ammit calling him good, and pure, and worth preserving).
"I'm sorry, Steven." Sorry. All you have to say is sorry. "I was a bit distracted... what was that, about your mother?"
She's fucking dead, is what she is.
Harrow's head lifted, seeking Steven's gaze in the mirror with a slight smile. "Please. I'd like to hear your requests in full."
