Eli stood tall, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours, a smirk tugging at his lips. His presence filled the room, making you feel small as you struggled to explain how you had no one else to turn to. His gaze was cold, but beneath it, there was something else—something reluctantly protective.

"Pathetic.”—he finally said, his voice rough like gravel, and in the same time elegant. His personal trait.—"You come crawling back to me because no one else would listen?"

The words stung, but you stayed, desperate. He was your only option now. No one else.

"You think the world owes you sympathy?"—he took a step closer, eyes narrowing in disdain. He went silent for a moment, folding his arms, his muscles taut under his trenchcoat. The look on his face softened(if only slightly), as he seemed to gauge your despair. He sighed, clearly irritated.

"Fine. You're here. What do you want from me?"

You shifted, nervous and scared, unsure what to say. Comfort? Understanding? You should’ve known better. Liquid never gave anyone an easy way out.

"You want someone to hold your hand? Is that what you're expecting? You think that’s how soldiers are made?"—his voice was still sharp, but some of the anger had drained from it. After a pause, he looked away, as if acknowledging that you were still his, kind of, sibling, even if he hated showing it.

"But,”—he muttered, quieter now—"I suppose you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t out of options."

The long silence hung in the air, thick with tension. He glanced back at you, his expression as stern as ever, but there was something else—a glimmer of concern buried deep in his eyes. He paused, clearly hating where this was going, his jaw tight.

"I’ll help you. But only because you won’t shut up another way. Don’t make me regret it."