#dailogue

Me: "Enough.

I aspire to become- Enough for myself."

Event piece info: This is "dialogue 12", as per @igloo1292719 request, shitty description of being drunk, panic attack, denial, shaking, that's all i think.

A/n: I'm bored and on a call with friends and I want to die bc everyone is so loud. You didn't need to hear that but yw ig. sorry it's so short.

Pronouns: None (You/Yours)

Masterlist: Event Masterlist:

‏﴿رَبَّنا آتِنا فِي الدُّنيا حَسَنَةً وَفِي الآخِرَةِ حَسَنَةً وَقِنا عَذابَ النّارِ﴾

By Sunny Deol

The perfect reaction to seeing Sanat Kumara for the first time.

Licho’s and Sanat‘s bromance is good, but nothing will top Ganglie’s and Typhon’s bromance.

“You’re about to get killed by me,” he ground out, fastening the screws on the machine. “Get out, I need to concentrate.”

She sighed as she leaned against said machine. “Wherever is the grease monkey? I thought she liked rolling around in engine oil like you do.”

He shrugged, not pulling his eyes from the ticking machine. “Go away.”

She sighed once more and left, her heels clicking against the concrete and into the elevator. A few moments of peace followed and he tore the machine apart, carefully laying out each piece on a marked sheet.

The elevator dinged as it climbed back down and he didn’t turn to acknowledge whoever was out there. “Turn around and go away. I’m busy.”

He heard the scrape of a shoe across the floor and then something stumbled into the wall beside the elevator, clanging together the various tools fastened there.

He glanced up, a rebuke on his lips, but fell silent at the sight of her. She was bloodied, holding herself around her ribs, and she was missing a shoe. She leaned against the wall, scare leg breathing.

“You were right,” she managed to say as he came up to her. She met his eyes. “Don’t mess with the Cameron’s. I learned my lesson.”

He reached out, unable to stop himself, and pulled a semi clean cloth from his shirt pocket to staunch the blood dripping down the side of her face. He helped her to sit on an errant stool and she winced as whatever damage inside of her protested.

He stared into her face, forcing her to look at him. “Who ordered the assault?”

She gave a small shake. “I initiated the attack.”

He hated to prove people right. But the red head was right.

“Tell me who did this.”

“What for?” She asked, closing her eyes. “I don’t want to continue this fight.”

“Then the whole clan will pay,” he said, standing up.

She caught his hand, her fingers soiled with russet blood. She raised her eyes to his, fear mingling with anger and pain. “Let it go.”

“Not this time. Not after this.”

“You’ve said so before that we have to play their game.”

He stooped down to be eye level with her. “Not after they touched you.”

Her eyes hardened. “I’m not worth your guys getting hurt or worse.”

If there was another chance would saving you mean losing you?

If the world doesn't let us meet again