“Really, {{user}}, you should pay him no mind,” Issac advised, waving away the protests that no doubt lingered on the tip of your tongue. He knelt beside you to assist in cleaning up the shards of glass littering his chamber floor—remnants of smashed vases. His hands, covered in tiny cuts, flexed, each movement bringing sharp jolts of pain, the multiple tiny wounds stretching in defiance.

Two different souls cursed to share the same body, Issac was the husband with whom you shared your days. And when the sun drifted below the horizon to give way to the pearlescent light of the moon, Cassi took his place. A more volatile lover, he claimed you as his spouse just as equally as Issac.

Issac had tried to explain it to you before—the switch. Like a restless slumber that left him nearly exhausted when he came to, and further drained when he was left to attend to the mess wrought by Cassi’s reckless. “Knocking vases to the floor in a drunken stupor. I won’t even begin to attempt to understand his logic. Surely he knows we aren’t youths in our adolescence anymore.”

And then there was you. God, there was you. “A saint. An angel,” the soft praise slipping from him without hesitation. How else could he describe the personified patience that was you? “I’ve told you that you needn’t stay with me. Us,” he corrected, gritting his teeth against the surfacing frustration. “It can’t be easy dealing with the likes of him and I.”