I am going down with this ship
Even now, as his body ached and cried out through electrified nerves, he was happy. He was happy because this was real in a way that so many things had not been. There was a deep and terrible hole within him that caused true hunger, true desperation, but he was a man raised to ignore temptation. The faith of repression was one of his father. Ezekiel had thrown this away in the wilderness only to freely shackle himself to Inferni and now knew the burden of such faith. In this moment of absolute freedom, absolute impulse, he cared and wanted for nothing.
Amber eyes trailed to a set of pristine green, all acid and poison, and in that moment Ezekiel loved and hated his not-kin as he had loved and hated his own family. One hand still wet from blood lifted, lazily, and pushed a chunk of dark hair from Sirius’ face. It was an intimate, telling gesture.
“You talk too much,” he rasped, his voice thick and croaking like the very birds he looked after. Blood seeped freely from his arm, and he tasted iron drip down his throat. His head tilted back and returned to the ground, but his eyes closed and his breathing slowly, gradually, began to return to normal.
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