The Worm that Reaves 496Please respect copyright.PENANANPQ3Lz0akE
Saul tapped his fingers against the cold glass. The day had begun with the promise of sun and warmth, but it had lied. Clouds of deceit had rolled in to dirty the sky and weep cold tears upon the long road, his car and the glass he rested his knuckles against. It annoyed him. Not the rain, not the cold, nor Kyra’s warm breath that fogged his glasses, but the lie. It was a strange thing to expect that a nice day would make him feel better, that it would return his will to hope. But it was his hope to hope that had been crushed when that first dark cloud appeared. The red haired Knight stared blankly ahead as she drove, the radio on and loud in what he suspected was some attempt to drown out her own thoughts. Kyra shuffled closer to him, nudging his leg with her thigh. She was awake. Saul couldn’t be certain when if she’d been asleep at all during the trip. It was a game she liked to play. A way of ensuring he couldn’t let his guard down. With a cold hand Saul stroked the inside of her thigh, lightly. It was no different to stroking a beast. A beast, too close to comfort. A beast, bound to you with an unbreakable chain. A beast, that you stroked with a tentative hand in fear that it would turn around and tear out your throat on a whim.496Please respect copyright.PENANAEtnUBJY41Y
Saul hated lies, but he hated the chain around his neck more.
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