@falchionbourne and I talked about cousin angst <3
his fingers run along the sharp edge of the blade, it cuts into his gloves and leaves a trail of red along it. he found comfort in the pain and the way it grounded him as dark eyes calmly watched the other’s sleeping form. entering the room was easy---the guards knew him and let him pass or simply couldn’t stop him for they’d fallen asleep on the job. they thought his business to be official. but no. it was far from it. too late for something like that.
his task would be simple. all he needed to do was drag the knife along his innocent, sleeping cousin’s throat. then he’d be free of them. he’d be free of this life of deceit and lies that weighed so heavily upon his shoulders. he would be next in line; these plots would cease. yet something held him back, even as he stepped forwards.
nails biting into the weapon’s leather grip, berkut levels it with the boy’s throat. alm was only two years his junior, but he seemed so much younger. his duty did not crush him. stress did not age him. he’d not a single worry in this world. because no one had dared burden him, because berkut had not allowed any threat to reach him.
none save for himself.
lips curl into a scowl, his brows furrowing in silent debate. there should have been no debate at all. either he’d come here to definitely kill alm, or he shouldn’t have come at all and allowed his cousin to live. so it seemed his heart wanted this since he’d come here tonight.
no, a part of him says, this isn’t what you want.
❛ then what the hell do you want...?? ❜ he mutters to himself much louder than he intended. berkut pulls the knife back, wincing as the idea of what would’ve happened if he’d done what he’d planned flashed across his mind.
you’re so damned weak ! no wonder they treat you like this...!
rapid steps backward bring him knocking into his cousin’s nightstand and freezing in place as something he couldn’t make out clambered to the floor.
oh, gods, please do not let him awaken to this horrible sight...!
