[ The heart within his chest stutters as he beholds the man before him. Even now, separated from its owner, Kaveh's heart yearns for Alhaitham. It lurches, pounding in his ears as he kneels in front of Alhaitham, and reaches out to him like he did the architect. But the sight of red stops him. His hands are covered in Kaveh's blood. He can't possibly touch Alhaitham now.
But the script demands blood, and he must follow through for them all to escape. Slowly, he raises his hand again, reaching over the man's shoulder to place a steadying hand against his upper back. It's not quite an embrace, but it brings the two of them close all the same. With his other hand, he presses the dagger against Alhaitham's neck. It trembles, as does the next breath he draws.
There are no words this time. Alhaitham has not pierced into his very being like Kaveh has. His desire to spare the man pain is the same, but it is a luxury he cannot afford this time. There is nothing more the puppet can do to console him, and the heart in his chest squeezes painfully, both for the man before him and for the puppet that holds it.
Warmth draws trails down his face—tears, he realizes, as a sob threatens to tear out of his throat. No, not now. He swallows the emotions with a shuddering breath, but the tears do not stop. His sight blurs, but the dagger is already against Alhaitham's neck. He just needs to act.
One, two, three—he counts the beating of Kaveh's heart—four, five, six—and he pulls the dagger. ]
no subject
But the script demands blood, and he must follow through for them all to escape. Slowly, he raises his hand again, reaching over the man's shoulder to place a steadying hand against his upper back. It's not quite an embrace, but it brings the two of them close all the same. With his other hand, he presses the dagger against Alhaitham's neck. It trembles, as does the next breath he draws.
There are no words this time. Alhaitham has not pierced into his very being like Kaveh has. His desire to spare the man pain is the same, but it is a luxury he cannot afford this time. There is nothing more the puppet can do to console him, and the heart in his chest squeezes painfully, both for the man before him and for the puppet that holds it.
Warmth draws trails down his face—tears, he realizes, as a sob threatens to tear out of his throat. No, not now. He swallows the emotions with a shuddering breath, but the tears do not stop. His sight blurs, but the dagger is already against Alhaitham's neck. He just needs to act.
One, two, three—he counts the beating of Kaveh's heart—four, five, six—and he pulls the dagger. ]