You finally had him cornered; after months of pursuit. Tartaglia was strong. Yet when it came to you, he always seemed to lose.

“You are hesitating, love.”

Your dagger pressed against his neck; a small trail of blood trickling down. Sensing your hesitance, he grabbed your hand; leading your dagger to his heart.

“Go ahead. It’s yours anyway.”

His words held conviction. He always seemed to lose battles against you; but perhaps that was because he had lost his heart to you first.