“aren’t you afraid?” he frowned, peering into her face.

“they’re always afraid. they always beg, always plead. why is it that you do not beg?”

she looked up at him through glassy eyes. “you want me to beg?”

something dark and twisted danced in his pupils as he stares at her, nodding slightly with his brows furrowed.

“please,” she whispered, leaning closer to the blade. “do it.”