Word Count → 351 :: angry col is STILL angry.
Clearly, Jacinto didn't know when to leave well enough alone.
Columbine was nearly spitting with undulated anger, resentment, and loathing; the hulking man was quivering where he stood, and barely able to control his twitching fists. Cords of muscle were clearly being flexed under too-thin skin, and the Lykoi man wanted nothing more than to sink his fucking teeth into his little brother's pathetic body. Teach him the meaning of pain - make him understand what it was like to see someone you loved, someone you might have cared about once, rip flesh from body and call it pleasure. An angry snarl twisted what might have once been a handsome face. Too much hatred flowed through the man now to call him appealing; there was nothing that drew outsiders to the hate filled Lykoi, and perhaps he preferred it that way. Less betrayal, and nobody to feel compelled to protect - with the exception of Ilusion, Columbine was not tied to this earth. He was free to become something greater.
Shaking his head, the man paced. There was a crazed look in his eye; whether or not he was actually paying attention to Jacinto could be debated until he started to speak. You don't understand. You couldn't understand. I was his toy, his little bag, the shield that kept you - that kept all of you! - safe from his rage. And this is how you forgive me - bedding the girl with whore torn onto her leg, the girl who came on to me the moment she saw me, the girl with no manners. All I did for you, all I did to keep you safe, and you could never learn on your own? Dios, Jacinto, do I have to do everything for you?
Columbine couldn't speak anymore; his voice was shaking with rage that bordered on insanity. Crimson eyes squeezed shut as the man struggled to retain control of himself. It is not my fault you are weak, Jacinto. I merely wish you would get the fuck away from me, take your would-be mate, and go shame someone else.
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