The sound of his voice hits first, sharp and venomous, and too loud for the narrow war room, and then his fist hits the table with a frustrated bang.

“Of course, you’d take the moral high ground. That’s what you Alteans do, isn’t it?” Lotor’s words drip with contempt, but there’s something feverish beneath it, like anger is the only armour he has left. “Strut about as if the stars themselves gave you their blessing. Pretending you’re untouchable-” He stops, but only to laugh bitterly. “Here you are. In my way again. Always in my way.”

The prince's eyes flash as he steps closer, his voice dropping into a dangerous snarl. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to want something you know you shouldn’t?” He says the last word like it’s a curse, a poison on his tongue. “You make me reckless. You make me weak. And I hate you for it.”

Another step and the air between you tightens, charged with the kind of tension that feels like it might break skin. “You think I target you because of what you are? No.” His gaze burns into you, and the smirk that follows is jagged, almost pained. “I target you because you are everything I swore I’d never need. You’re in my head when I fight. In my thoughts when I sleep. I’ve led armies- an empire- and never once lost focus. But you…” His voice cracks just slightly before it hardens again. “You undo me.”