[The earlier horror has nothing, nothing on the flash of absolute incandescent fury in Myr's heart at hearing Mello had been L's partner, had manhandled him, had--
Rape might not be the word for it and it is only, barely, the combination of Myr's devotion to the truth and years of self-control that drags him back from that assumption.
Not before he's shattered the pot he's holding, though, the crunch of earthenware giving way audible over the watch.
Breathe. Breathe, mage, breathe, don't let the emotion rule you.]
Coming to meet you. Where can I?
[Now there's bloodied shards of pottery that need cleaning up, too. Maker damn it.]
no subject
Rape might not be the word for it and it is only, barely, the combination of Myr's devotion to the truth and years of self-control that drags him back from that assumption.
Not before he's shattered the pot he's holding, though, the crunch of earthenware giving way audible over the watch.
Breathe. Breathe, mage, breathe, don't let the emotion rule you.]
Coming to meet you. Where can I?
[Now there's bloodied shards of pottery that need cleaning up, too. Maker damn it.]