[ Well, that's hardly a fair thing to say; he goes limp and tucks his face further out of sight. 'I was inviting you in, not saying I loved you less.' That was all he ever needed to know but his anger burned like an exploding sun and he wanted to hurt more than hear, to bleed rather than beg, and then ...
All his heat cools, somewhat miserably, and he still remains silent. No maia has ever taken being wrong (or at least acknowledging it) very gracefully. ]
no subject
All his heat cools, somewhat miserably, and he still remains silent. No maia has ever taken being wrong (or at least acknowledging it) very gracefully. ]